Trials of the Heart
by fleck.phantasma
Summary: Though it seemed that peace was finally in the cards for them, that peace is short lived. A new threat is cresting on the horizon for the French King and his friends, and it seems that they will once again be forced to make decisions based on their stations in life. Choices will be made, friendships established and there are always enemies waiting around every corner.
1. Prologue

**Hello again! First of all, a huge thank you to everyone who has messaged me about writing another story with these characters. It means a lot to know that you guys are still interested in them and my writing after having finished this story a while ago. So please accept this now as a teaser to the rest of the story that is to come. Yes indeed, I have decided to write another story with these beloved characters and have taken some of your suggestions into consideration. So keep an eye out, as you might meet some brand new faces in the next installments.  
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* * *

 **Prologue**

 _She stood motionless in the window and gazed at the busy courtyard below with empty eyes. The guests were arriving in their finest clothes and carriages, ready to dance the night away in celebration of the news. They had managed to avoid a war within England through a marriage of great advantage. The Duke of Buckingham had been sent by his master to negotiate a peace treaty in order to avoid the costly affair of war and had been offered the hand of a French bride as his reward._

 _But as the King of France had no sister he could offer up as his political pawn in order to secure such an arrangement, the Duke of Buckingham had searched for his prize in a slightly different manner. After all, when there was no princess to claim…wasn't a well honoured hero the next best thing?_

 _The Dowager Queen had kindly seen to her personal preparation for the evening, making sure that Mya was never far from her sight to keep the young woman at ease. She had seen to the bath, selected the dark blue and silver gown that she would wear and allowed her the use of crown jewels for the night. Everything was perfect, not a hair or thread out of place._

 _So why then did she feel so numb?_


	2. Chapter I

**I don't think I've ever seen such an immediate response to a story as short as the prologue! I'm really happy to see that there are so many people interested in this story and how it will unfold, so I hope I don't end up disappointing anyone! New characters are soon to come, and I have at least two or three very sweet, intimate moments planned between a few different characters. Leave me a review and let me know what you think!  
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* * *

 **Chapter One**

Once again she found herself in a position of needing help to dress for an important occasion, and for the second time she was kindly aided by a woman who was her superior in every possible way. The note had arrived in her room only a half hour earlier with the familiar seal pressed into the wax, and Katherine knew that she would be a fool to deny any assistance that the Dowager Queen was willing to provide. After all, she had attended far more of these ceremonies and balls than Katherine would ever hope to see in her lifetime, so Anne certainly had a better idea of what the expectations were than Katherine did.

"What if I trip on my way through the ballroom?" the young brunette asked anxiously as the Queen's ladies wrapped the sheet around her body to remove the excess water from the bath. "Everyone will be looking at me and I will have made a fool of myself in front of the King and my father and-"

"Hush child," Anne laughed softly, lifting a hand to further her words. "Do not go making trouble for yourself where trouble is not to be found."

She knew that the Queen was right, of course. But that didn't prevent the worried thoughts from swimming around in her mind as the ladies of the chamber pushed her toward another section of the room where her dress had already been laid out in preparation for her. The sheet was hastily removed from her body before she had a chance to protest and the busy work of dressing herself in the several layers of clothing that were required had begun. For a young woman who had grown up in rough linens and wool skirts, the adjustment to silks and fine fabrics had been a difficult one to comprehend. Yet they were slowly becoming a part of her daily routine while she remained a guest at the palace. Queen Anne had seen to it that her wardrobe was always full of pretty things, though she took care that they were still simple enough to not make Katherine feel ill at ease about dressing in them. Despite the parentage that had been disclosed to her only a short while before, she was still very much a simple girl who had been raised in a monastery.

"Must we go through with this?" she asked, turning her head to look at Anne as someone pushed her arms out of the way. "There really is no reason for the King to throw such an affair."

Anne rose from her chair with enough grace and elegance that Katherine could almost be jealous. She crossed the room in a few slow strides as she came to stand just beside the younger woman, wearing the same maternal smile that she always seemed to wear when Katherine was present. Or perhaps she was simply imagining things, she thought to herself as she noted the silent nod of instruction that Anne was giving to the various handmaids around her. After all, it wasn't as if she had spent a great deal of time in the Dowager Queen's company until recently.

"He seems to think otherwise," Anne told her smoothly, lifting a hand to signal something to another woman who hurried around Kate with the silk linen in her hand. "And it would not be wise for us to gainsay His Majesty."

Kate chewed a little nervously on her lip as she fought the urge to argue her point with Anne. Perhaps if the two of them were alone in the room she would be free to speak her mind and all of the worries that plagued it. But as it was they were surrounded by people who were likely already gossiping with others about the strange young woman who had come into the palace and thrown their lives through a loop. Nothing had been the same since she had first been summoned a few months ago following the altercation at the Bastille. She had helped to guide a severely injured D'Artagnan through the doors of the palace, danced with the King after her father was honoured by him, set the everyone on edge with her illness and finally been kidnapped by outside forces. If nothing else, people were likely muttering about everything had changed since her arrival.

As the laces were pulled and the last of the inner garments put into place, Kate could feel her body tense at the sudden pressure she felt on her side. Her grimace immediately caught Anne's attention and had the Dowager Queen clapping her hands, mentioning to her ladies that the corset did not need to be quiet as tight. The grateful smile that Katherine gave to the older woman did not go unnoticed by anyone.

"Dark blue?" the young woman asked with a soft laugh. "Is that not the same colour you chose for me the last time?"

At this, Anne also allowed a laugh to sound. "I believe you are right, my dear. But the colour is absolutely lovely for you. It would not make sense to choose another colour just yet."

Kate raised an eyebrow. "You make it sound as if you expect there to be many colours in my future, my lady."

There was no response from the Dowager Queen, but Katherine certainly didn't miss the smile that she wore as she moved her way around the room and quietly conversed with the young woman who appeared at that moment. Kate was left to stand in the middle of her small group of female attendants as they each seemed to fuss over their designated aspect of her appearance, wondering what the Queen had meant when she had offered that smile in response. Everyone seemed to know something that she didn't yet know and it was beginning to bother her a lot more than she cared to admit.

One of the female attendants cleared her throat impatiently as she waited for Kate to lift her arms, holding the dark blue silk skirt that she had earlier mentioned in her arms. The time had come for the outer shell to be put on, the beginning of the end. Then all she would have left to endure would be the placement of her hair and any other little details that the Queen might decide needed to be tended to before they considered going down to the ballroom in preparation.

As the final lacings were tied into place a number of the ladies were dismissed with a quiet wave of Anne's hand. They paused only long enough to turn and curtsey in her direction before they quietly gathered the things that no longer needed to be in the room and slipped out the door.

For the first time in the past several hours, Anne and Katherine were alone.

Katherine's shoulders relaxed a little bit now that there were not so many eyes upon on, breathing a gentle sigh as she looked up at Queen Anne with a curious look. She still had this nagging feeling that there was something going on. She already knew what most of the ceremony for the evening was about, but there seemed to be something else as well. Anne knew, she could tell by the look on her face that she did.

"I still wish he would not make such a fuss," Kate confessed to her. "I feel like such an outsider at court, and I dislike being made the center of attention. Truthfully I feel as though I put his life in danger more than I helped to save it."

Her eyes dropped down at that moment, remembering the events that had led to her capture and imprisonment at Chateau Montblanc. She chewed on her lower lip once more as she recalled the feelings of guilt that she had felt in that instance, and her eyes were up almost too quickly as she looked at Anne.

"My lady, I never really had the opportunity to apologize to you," the brunette began. "For the part that I played in Louis' death-"

"No!"

Anne cut her off rather quickly and crossed the room in three quick strides, reaching out to take Katherine's hand tightly in her own and kneel down before her. The shock of seeing the Queen on her knees in such a fashion caused Katherine's eyes to grow wide, a soft gasp escaping her lips. But Anne gazed at Katherine with an expression so steady in nature that she wasn't sure how she was truly meant to feel in this situation. There was no circumstance that she could think of that should look like this, with her superior kneeling before her and looking upward with such a firm expression upon her face.

"There is absolutely no reason for you to apologize," Anne told her with a serious tone rather unlike the Dowager Queen. "I lost Louis long ago…and I had long since given up hope that I might one day have him return to us. It pains me to know that he is now beyond my reach. But at least I know he is at peace and his tortured soul is free of this Earth."

The pressure that appeared in Katherine's hand at that moment caused the young woman to look down at the two clasped hands, unsure of how to properly respond. With all of the kindness that Anne had already shown her it was impossible for Kate to think that this woman, who had already been through so much in her life, could find it in her heart to extend this sort of forgiveness. And not even that, she thought, as Anne had insisted that there was nothing for her to forgive. It almost seemed as if she were attempting to thank Katherine for the part that she had played, saving Philippe from an early grave even though it had meant that Louis would go to it in his place. No doubt her uncle would have informed the Queen that she had willingly allowed herself to fall from a high window in her effort to save the life of the man who now sat on the French throne.

Together they sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, quiet pressure being exchanged in the hands before Anne slowly rose to her feet again and crossed to stand behind Katherine, looking at their combined reflections in the mirror. Fingers reached out and started to twirl pieces of Kate's long brown hair, picking it up and pulling it back in a few different places as she considered how best to style her hair for the evening. For her part Kate just sat there in silence. If Anne wanted to do her hair then who was she to argue? Having grown up in a rather humble monastery all her life she had never needed to know such things. The best she could do was put it into a braid or up in a bun so that it would remain out of her eyes.

She knew she needed to ask. "What does he have planned for tonight?"

The smile returned to Anne's lips in an instant. "You know just as much as I do," she said smoothly. "But I know that he has something very special planned. Philippe was rather excited when he mentioned it this morning."

The nervous apprehension slowly began to bubble in her stomach once more. "Truly?"

Anne nodded to her. "I promise you, child, I know not of his plan. But tell me…"

Kate lifted her eyes once more, a slight tilt in her head she looked at Anne's reflection and wondered what it was that might now be asked of her.

"Do you love him?"

The question caught him completely off guard. Her lips parted as if to speak but the words refused to surface as she continued to stare into the mirror. She hadn't seen that one coming. How did you respond to something like that? This was perhaps the last person she had ever expected to question her like that…someone who had taken a step back and simply observed the situation as it unfolded from the very beginning.

Yet it seemed that Anne was rather patiently awaiting her response. Her fingers busied themselves with the twirling and setting of Katherine's hair in an up-do of sorts, though her eyes occasionally glanced into the mirror. Whether this was to check on the look of Kate's hair or to gauge who the young woman would respond however, was anyone's guess.

"My lady-"

"Do you love him?"

This time, Katherine paused for only a moment. "Yes," she breathed as the colour began to rise in her cheeks. "I do."

"Well," came the soft, satisfied response. "Then I think perhaps we should discuss what jewels you will wear tonight, shall we?"


	3. Chapter II

**As a slightly belated Christmas present, I give to you all the second official chapter of this new story! I apologize that it took me so long in order to finish this, but there were details that I needed to work out in order to ensure that this story had the potential to be as successful as the previous one. And while I was writing it I came to realize that it has now been a year since the completion of "All For One, And All For Love." I can't thank you all enough for taking the time to read through these, and loving these characters the way that I do. It's so much easier for someone to write it down and put it together when they know that there is at least one person out there who appreciates the effort I've thus far put into these.**

 **So thank you to everyone! I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your reviews and private messages about this story. I'd love to hear what you guys have to say after reading through this chapter! Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!  
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* * *

 **Chapter Two**

"Mademoiselle Katherine!"

Her eyes grew a little wide as she stood at the mouth of the ballroom, hands clasped before her to prevent anyone from seeing them shake. The people parted almost as soon as her name was announced and they turned their eyes to look at the young woman who was about to parade herself through them on her way to the King of France. With one last breath to try and steady her nerves she stepped forward, her eyes glancing to each side of the room as the courtiers all curtsies or bowed at her as she made her way passed them.

Were they supposed to do that, she wondered to herself as she went. She was no personal of royalty or high standing, but rather a common girl who had found herself to be at the heart of the trouble that had befallen her country. It was surely odd enough that she was being honoured by her King amid such a large crowd of people, but were the displays that they were showing now really necessary?

Her heart pounded in her chest as she made her graceful progress down the center of the room, trying to keep herself focused on all of the little tips that Queen Anne had shared with her before she had departed from the Queen's apartments. She had been given all of the details that Anne had known, told how to carry herself and when she was supposed to step forward. And her mind scrambled to remember everything now that her nerves had taken control of the situation and caused her to react so timidly.

So instead of focusing on Philippe at the end of carpeted path she instead looked for the familiar faces who waited for her before the platform, each of them standing apart in their uniforms of black with their hands neatly folded before them. Like everyone else in the ballroom their gazes were focused on her, waiting for the moment when she would come to stand by them and hear the greeting of their King. How proud they looked, she thought to herself as her footsteps carried her closer. She could see her father struggling with his pride at that moment as the corners of his lips twitched upward into the beginnings of a smile. Even as she stopped to turn and face him, falling down to her knee as she bowed her head for his blessing as she could hear him beaming as he outlined the cross above her head and murmured his traditional words. And the smile was still there when he reached down with one hand to help her back to her feet, nudging her gently to turn toward her King.

Two more steps forward and Katherine sunk into a low curtsey that she held for a moment before Philippe, waiting until she saw his hand extend toward her to raise her back up again. She did her best to quietly discourage the look in his eye, but there was precious little she could do with so many sets of eyes upon her now.

"Despite your poor health and the way that you were treated during your capture, you demonstrated uncommon valour in the face of adversity," Philippe began as he released her hand and brought both arms to rest behind his back. "You were prepared to lay down your own life in defense of mine. This is a show of loyalty that I am beginning to suspect runs deep in your family."

With a sly glance off to the side Katherine saw the way in which her father and uncles seemed to respond to the King's praise, feeling a smirk light on her lips. She then shifted her eyes over to the Queen Mother who stood before her own throne, hands quietly folded in front of her as she too watched the proceedings. And though the smile that she delivered to the younger woman was as soft and kind as anyone might expect, the brunette knew that she was likely thinking the same thing as she was. That the King's remark was rather amusing when you considered the various ways in which they had all put themselves in harm's way at one point or another. And classing it as "a family trait" was perhaps the best way to define it.

"You were abducted with the intent of being used as a pawn in their scheme," Philippe continued loudly, his bright blue gaze returning to Katherine once more as his voice filled the room. "And by their hand you suffered many injustices that I am unable to remedy. However, in spite of this you pushed yourself into a position of power over you captors, saving first your father," he glanced once more in the direction of Aramis. "And then me."

As he turned himself away from her and toward the approaching servant who then stepped forward, Katherine once more sunk into a curtsey that placed her as low to the marble floor as she could possibly manage. Her eyes lowered respectfully as she waited for Philippe to continue his speech, ignoring the quiver in her breast that began as the pause lengthened considerably. For a moment she held her breath. What was taking him so long? They had carefully rehearsed this with her father and uncles around them to ensure that this moment went off without a hitch, not wanting formal words to muddle the moment and place Katherine in a curtsey for too long. Her strength had still not returned as fully as her father would have liked, thus leaving the young woman to struggle with something as simple as presenting her best curtsey to her sovereign.

Her knees began to tremble as she knelt before Philippe, her arms spread to hold the wide skirts of her gown away from her feet in order to prevent her from tripping. She dared not shift her gaze away from the floor lest someone see her do so, but the discomfort she felt was slowly becoming too much to bear. It was only when she heard the gentle gasp of the crowd that had assembled behind her that Kate dared to lift her eyes just a little to finally spy on Philippe's movements. And when she did, a look of shock overtook her features.

He held not the object that had been rehearsed with, but something else. Something that she would not be permitted to hold in her hands the way she might hold the decorative dagger that had originally been placed on the black velvet pillow now held by the servant to his left.

"For the loyalty and courage that you have shown in defense of the crown, I am appointing you to my Privy Council. It is my wish that you continue to serve me and the interests of France from a much safer place among my advisors."

For a brief moment you might have heard a pin drop against the marble floor of the ballroom. But then the murmuring began. Those behind her could hardly believe that the King was bestowing such an honour on a woman, especially one who was younger than he. They turned to one another and did their best to keep their whispers down so that they would not carry, but it was an impossible feat given the number of people who were present. Kate turned her head slowly and looked back at her father with fear in her eyes. This was definitely not part of the plan in the slightest, and she hoped that perhaps Aramis might be able to step forward on her behalf with the words that were failing her in that moment. He couldn't possibly be serious. To appoint a woman to his Privy Council would make him the mockery of Christendom!

Yet it seemed that Aramis and the others were just as shocked with the announcement as she was, for they looked among themselves in silence for some form of guidance before their eyes turned back to Kate. They could offer her no help though, not while the King stood before such a mass of people. And with no help in sight the brunette turned her eyes back up to Philippe, only to find that he was no longer looking down at her but instead had lifted his eyes up to watch the crowd in the ballroom with a heavy frown.

"This country has always prided itself with being far more advanced than our rivals in England and Spain," he declared loudly, stopping all conversation in his tracks as heads shot around to look at him once more. "We continually boast about our desire to be a progressive nation…but now can we continue to do that if we do not use all of the resources that we have at our disposal? How foolish we would be if we did!"

The silence continued for only a moment before the King pressed on. "Is there anyone here who would deny this woman praise for her actions? Any among you who would stand up and defy the wishes of your King over the scruples of her sex?"

Kate's eyes immediately turned back toward her father, silently pleading that he might be the one person who rose up and spoke to the King about this ridiculous idea that he had somehow gotten into his head. But she knew even as he returned her glance that there was nothing they could do. No one would dare to gainsay the King in such a public fashion, especially not since the people believed him to be Louis. There was no telling what sort of reaction Philippe would have if this were to occur, and truthfully Kate didn't think that she wanted to know. So instead the young woman resigned herself to her fate, turning her eyes back to the King to accept the gift that he continued to hold in his one hand. With the other he reached forward and allowed her to grip his fingers tightly as she slowly rose back to her feet from her curtsey, attempting to ignore the aching burn that now resonated through her legs as a result of remaining in that position for so long. But she kept her dark head bowed as she felt Philippe slip the heavy metal ring onto her finger, feeling the cool metal bite against her skin in warning.

It was certainly an ostentatious piece, she thought to herself as her blue orbs turned to look at the hand that was still held within the hand of the King. The ruby that had been set in the middle was surrounded by many twinkling diamonds in a manner that made it appear almost too large for her finger. And he had placed it upon her left hand, something that did not escape the young woman's notice at all as he pressed his fingers a little more firmly into her skin. Philippe established eye contact with her for a moment longer before he gently pulled her to the side of his body to signal that she was to face the crowd, quickly attempting to remove any trace of her fear or resignation from her eyes.

As they were expected, the people clapped and cheered loudly as the King formally presented Katherine to them, which brought more of a smile to the King's lips as he surveyed them with his own blue eyes. A nod to the musicians who were waiting off to the side and he lead her back down the very same path that she had walked only a short time before, coming to a stop in the middle as everyone else slowly pushed themselves back to avoid being in the King's way. This was how he was to formally open the ball, by dancing with her before the people once more. Only this time, Katherine knew she wasn't likely to faint in his arms as she had the previous time.

At the nudge of his hand she stepped in the small circle around his body to show herself off to the various guests before she came to a stop before him and slowly slipped a little closer. He still had a firm grip on her one hand, so the other scooped lightly to gather her skirt to prevent her from tripping. And once the music began Philippe wasted no time in finding a rhythm in which he would guide Katherine around the floor.

The young woman bit her lip softly as they moved, allowing her eyes to drop just a little. Philippe was quick to notice however, and softly murmured her name in order to catch her attention. "Is everything alright?"

She took a moment before responding in a hushed tone, lest people overhear them as they passed. "Do you know what you are doing?" she asked him. "Appointing me to your Privy Council was not what we had discussed."

"I know," he said, smiling down upon her. "And I am sorry that I surprised you like that. But it never would have happened if I had asked the others."

"And for good reason," Katherine insisted hurriedly. "The people are going to think you've gone mad, Your Majesty! Your Privy Council is comprised of men who are far older, wiser and higher ranking than I! Men such as my father have earned themselves a place by your side-"

"Are you saying you have not?" Philippe asked her, spinning her out to the end of his arm and then pulling her back inward, perhaps a little closer than before as his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

Kate boldly shook her head. "No, I have not. If nothing else I am-"

"It has already been done," Philippe insisted, cutting her off rather quickly as the smile slipped away and his grasp on her body tightened a little. "I cannot go back on my word and you cannot refuse."

The tone of anger caught her by surprise, as did the way he seemed to pull a little more at her body. The smile did not return, but a more neutral expression had certainly taken hold of his face as he continued to lead Katherine around the dance, floor, twirling and stepping around her as was customary for the dance itself. No further words were spoken as they moved, each playing their part for the remainder of the piece until at last they stepped in close to one another again as the end was reached. Kate held her gaze boldly upward in a manner that most other females would not dare, but the instant that she saw Philippe leaning in toward her she pushed herself away from him and sunk into yet another deep curtsey. After a slight hesitation he bowed his head in response. Applause once more erupted as the musicians ceased to play and the court recognized the end of the dance, which would now give them permission to become involved in the more festive side of the evening.

Katherine rose from her curtsey, her heart pounding a little in alarm. Had he truly lost his senses? He had nearly moved to expose their secret when he had leaned forward like that. Philippe had already caused enough whispering that night but the court would have been thrown into a frenzy if he had managed to kiss a common girl such as herself before all of those present. The rumours of being the King's new mistress would immediately swirl!

Her lips parted to speak when she saw D'Artagnan hurry forward from somewhere behind Philippe, immediately catching the King's ear as he whispered something to him with clear urgency. Philippe nodded his assent and gave the captain of his musketeers a moment to step back before he lifted his eyes first to Katherine and then to the assembled crowd.

"Let the dancing begin!"

With the blessing of the King many people wasted no time in hurrying onto the floor with their partners, preparing for their own first dance to begin the evening. Katherine watched as Philippe turned immediately away so that he might again speak to D'Artagnan and followed him away from the center of the room, ignoring the many bows and curtseys that happened around him as he passed. People stared after him of course, yet it seemed that they had become rather invisible now that D'Artagnan had commanded his attention…and so it seemed had Katherine, for as Philippe passed her he never once looked in her direction.

Instead the young woman was left to stand awkwardly in the middle of the floor, glancing around her for some sign of what she was supposed to do next. She was still unaccustomed to being in the center of a large crowd like that, especially when she was dressed in a manner that was still foreign to her body. But there was no mistaking the eyes that were upon her now, as people decided to hazard a glance in her direction as their whisperings began once more. Even with the number of people who had suddenly taken up residence in the middle of the floor there were still a great many left standing around the room, and Katherine had become their new subject for gossip.

"Kate.."

Her head snapped around as her father's voice filled her ears, finding that Aramis had come to stand a little closer to her than she had thought. She had nearly run into him when she had turned, stumbling back half a step until her father caught her elbow and pulled her back. She didn't need to ask, she knew that something was happening. The look on his face was rather grave considering the festive feel that had overtaken the ballroom, and that look immediately set Katherine on edge.

"What is it, Papa?" she asked him quickly.

The old man shook his head to signal that they could not speak there, not with so many people around. Instead he gently guided her by the elbow toward the very same door that Philippe and D'Artagnan had disappeared through only a few moments before, lightly pushing his way through the crowd. She didn't need him to say anything to know that it was bad. He very seldom wore that look, and when he did it usually meant that they were headed for some kind of trouble. It was the same look that he had worn that night before they had gone to the Bastille.

Wisely the brunette opted not to ask him again, instead turning her head to look toward Queen Anne who had still been seated in her throne on the platform. There was no time for her to wonder what was happening however, as she could see that her Uncle Porthos had already approached her with a low bow. No doubt she would shortly be informed of what was happening. Since returning from Chateau Montblanc the Queen had been kept in their circle to ensure that all of their plans met with her approval, specifically those that affected the King, her son.

For now however, Katherine could only follow her father from the room and hope that things were not as grim as his face lead her to believe that they were. And if not…well, then she had best prepare her nerves before she arrived at her destination.


	4. Chapter III

**Thank you for your patience while I made it through this last chapter. I was hit with a rather nasty case of writer's block (as well as a few personal health issues) that made it a little difficult to continue. But I'm back and hoping to bust out some more chapters of this story soon! I'd love for you guys to leave me a review when you finish reading this, and thank you SO much to those who have been following this as well as my last stories under this fandom. I am rather overwhelmed by the response that I've gotten from people and I'm thrilled to see that there are so many people liking and subscribing to my work!  
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* * *

 **Chapter Three**

It did not take her long to realize where they were going. Unknown to most people who didn't frequently find themselves at court, there was a small antechamber just off to the side of the ballroom, a room that Katherine was rather familiar with. When she had first been summoned to court after the events at the Bastille, it had been in this room that she had waited with an injured D'Artagnan at her side. She had been rather angry with him for insisting that he come along to answer the royal summons when she had only just managed to save his life from an otherwise fatal wound, but she had been powerless to stop him. And so she had waited there until permission had been given to present her to Queen Anne, her arms encircling his broken body in an effort to keep him standing on his own two feet.

A shiver ran through her body as she looked around the space. She certainly hadn't missed standing there. It brought back a wave of memories that she would just as soon forget, her hand reaching across her body to touch her right side subconsciously. They had both been injured then, she remembered. And though his wounds had been far more serious on the outside at the time, she had been sporting an injury of her own that proved to be near fatal due to her own negligence. It had not been the happiest of times for them. But they had made it through and now Katherine was anxious to find out what was happening so that she could remove herself from this chamber as quickly as possible.

As she approached the small group ahead of her with her father still at her side, Kate realized that they were not entirely alone. The uniform that the younger lad wore was unmistakably one that belonged to a messenger of the King, having seen them several times moving in and out of the palace in the time that she had been a guest of His Majesty. Athos and Andre stood close together, D'Artagnan standing almost right against Philippe's shoulder. Not wishing to disturb anything she stepped in just behind Athos, quickly followed by her father and then Porthos and Anne who had hurried from the ballroom as well. The messenger bowed to them all, the look on his face betraying a look that instantly had Kate's nerves set on edge.

"What is it?" asked Philippe.

"Your Majesty," the messenger bowed again to Philippe, this time keeping himself in that lowered position. "English ships have been spotted along the channel and moving away from Calais. Several ports have now reported seeing them and they fear that they will continue into our waters. They are war ships, sire."

Despite the silence that ultimately filled the room, there was a vast amount of tension to be found in there as well. Katherine turned her head to observe how the news had affected the postures of her uncle's. She had certainly heard her father's low growl in his throat, and Athos had clenched his hands into fists as well. But she wasn't sure how the others had accepted the news, for the only one who seemed to stand there without a trace of anger was the Dowager Queen, who was by now likely to be used to such bold moves by the English. No doubt she had heard several messengers come to her before with such news, and her years of practice at sitting in such a public office had likely prevented her from having any outward reactions to the news.

Philippe frowned heavily. "Have the ports continue to watch their movements for now. If they fear for even an instant that they will be attacked without provocation then you are to send word back to me immediately."

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

The messenger hurried to pick himself up and leave the room while showing proper respect to his King, taking a few moments more before he was safely out the door and their small group was left alone once more. But the silence didn't last.

"I'm afraid it's progressed beyond that," D'Artagnan told them quickly, stepping forward and turning himself so that he could address their small assembly. "English spies were seen only a few miles outside the city two days ago. Unfortunately we were unable to apprehend them before they were scared off by a contingent of French troops on their way to Calais."

"Do you think they are going to try and invade again?" Katherine asked quietly.

D'Artagnan sighed softly, turning his eyes to look at her. "We cannot be sure, _ma petite._ The rivalry between the French and English thrones goes back to the days of their Henry VIII. And every ruler since then has claimed to be the true heir to the French throne."

"But they mean to start another war, there is no mistaking that," Andre interjected.

"If they are that desperate to get their hands on the French crown then it is a possibility," Aramis acknowledged.

But Andre wasn't finished. "Then we will fight them," he declared passionately. "We'll fight them and die before we allow them to rule over us!"

"It's not as simple as that," Porthos declared quickly, looking at the younger musketeer with a shake of his head. "We are not prepared for a war."

D'Artagnan nodded in agreement. "Louis's war with the Dutch took a toll. And his unpopularity with the people saw more men hide from the lists rather than jumping to sign their names."

Katherine chewed on her lower lip before movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention away from the conversation. Athos had turned rather quickly from the group and moved toward the outer wall of the room without a word, his hands balled into tight fists that trembled. Even in the poor lighting of the antechamber the young woman could sense that something was terribly wrong, and her heart sank a little as she looked at her father. Aramis seemed to be thinking along the same lines, and turned as if he might approach Athos when his daughter's gentle touch to his arm stopped him. She spoke not a word as she shook her head at him, nodding instead that he maintain his presence in their current conversation. Andre was getting rather worked up about the potential of going to war with the English, and D'Artagnan would need all of the level headed minds that were available in order to prevent things from exploding.

The brunette turned herself around and slowly moved away from the group, feeling her father's gaze on her for a few more moments before she forced herself to focus on Athos. His back was still to her, and Kate was careful when she reached out to touch his shoulder that she didn't startle him from whatever thoughts were plaguing his mind. It didn't take a genius to know what was bothering him. The last war had stolen something precious from him, and that was a pain that she didn't think he would ever truly recover from.

"Uncle Athos?"

"I am alright, my dear."

Katherine frowned softly, coming to stand just a little closer and edging her way around the side of his body so that she might see his face. "I know you better than that," she told him gently. "It's the talk of the war…isn't it?"

Athos didn't immediately turn to look her in the eye, but he didn't need to. As she inched her way closer to the front of his body she could see the welling of tears in his eyes, the haunted look that seemed to completely overtake his features. If there had been any doubt before, it was gone now. She did not need to be told what thoughts plagued his mind.

"He did what he thought was right."

A small turn of his head was all it took. Katherine knew that she had his attention as he stared at her with his heartbroken expression and quickly pressed herself a little closer to him so that both of her hands could touch the soft material of the tunic that sat against his shoulder. It was a tender subject to broach with him, even after the time that had passed. And truth be told she really wasn't sure how he would react. The last time he had spoken openly about Raoul had been a few weeks back when they had been in the garden together and Athos had begged her to never again risk putting her father through the same anguish that he had experienced in the loss of his only son. It had broken her heart then, and the feeling didn't lessen as she stood there in his gaze. Katherine inhaled slowly, mentally preparing for any flash of anger that might rise in his body.

"I loved him like a brother," she continued in the same soft tone, not wishing for anyone else to come wandering their way just yet. "And I feel the pain of his absence every day. But you and I both know that there isn't a force on Earth that would have stopped Raoul from returning to the front once he received his orders. He was far too noble to hide like that. And he learned that from you."

Here she paused, biting nervously on her lower lip as she searched her uncle's face for some kind of outward reaction. "The first time he left, he made me promise that if anything ever happened to him that I would be there to comfort you. And when he came home safely I spent hours on my knees because I was so thankful that he was alive. I _know_ there is something more in your heart than just the pain of his loss, Uncle Athos –"

"I couldn't handle it," he murmured, cutting her off. "When I lost my son…all I could feel was rage, and a bitterness that wouldn't go away. All I wanted was some kind of revenge for his death…I didn't care how it came."

He wasn't looking at her now, but rather through her as if the memories were playing out before his eyes once more. He trembled slightly beneath the touch of her fingertips as they grew clearer. Out of instinct Katherine moved herself in as close as she could manage, allowing her body to offer some kind of support for him in case the emotions should overtake her normally steady uncle. But as quickly as they appeared they seemed to fade away into the past once more, and his eyes slowly turned to focus on her. Perhaps it was the look of concern that she wore that had him reaching out to press his rough hand against her cheek, his thumb gently grazing the skin in a soothing gesture. Perhaps it was for his own comfort that he did so. She wasn't entirely sure which was true. And for the moment, she wasn't interested in asking.

"I do not want to feel that way again," whispered the musketeer. "To feel like I will be alone with my anger and hatred for the remainder of my days until one of them destroys me completely. I cannot lose another person I love to a war."

In a flash the young woman had wrapped her arms around him as tightly as her smaller frame could manage, burying her face against the side of his neck. The response to her hug was instantaneous. Athos wasted no time in almost catching her body against his, holding her tightly to him as he too buried his face against the softness of her dark locks, his eyes firmly shut against the horrifying images that he saw. It was unseemly for a musketeer to cry. They were men of action, far too detached from their emotions to let them show so easily. Yet there in the comforting embrace of his niece he could feel his resolve begin to slip as a few tears managed to squeeze themselves from the corners of his eyes, running their course down his cheeks and into Katherine's hair.

"You will never be alone. I promise," she assured him, lifting her head and pulling back just enough that she could reach out to brush away the trails of his tears. "I will always be here, because…well…" Katherine let out a hollow laugh. "Let's face it, Uncle. I am twenty years old now. If I were going to leave you, I would have done so by now."

But the musketeer was not immediately convinced of her words, and it showed in his face as the older man shook his head a little. "It may surprise you, my dear, but I believe your future is coming for you yet."

There was no mistaking the meaning in his words, and Katherine found her cheeks flushing furiously under his gaze. All of a sudden the room felt entirely too hot. "You're speaking nonsense. I have no intention of going anywhere."

"Maybe _you_ don't," he acknowledged, nodding his head a little as he leaned forward to press a firm kiss to her forehead. "But I believe that someone else does."

Katherine shook her dark head at him, dropping her eyes lest he see the level of embarrassment they were sure to contain now. Her heart thudded so loudly in her chest that she was sure he would be able to hear it even with the other conversation still in the room, a conversation that had grown louder since they had left it. A small frown formed on her face as her bright blue orbs lifted to look back at the group, finding that it had indeed grown in size. The members of the Privy Council were now present, having arrived without her notice. Oh good, she thought to herself. After the spectacle that Philippe had made earlier in the ballroom they were sure to be rather hostile toward her presence, even if she had removed herself from all currently conversation.

The young woman looked back at her uncle, letting the frown slip away as she turned her thoughts back to him and his frame of mind. This was not going to be an easy task for him to handle, she knew that. And she knew that he was all too aware of that fact as well. But what could they do? Philippe had long since appointed them to his Privy Council as his advisors, and so their presence in the room was expected if not required. Was he going to be up to the task?

"We should rejoin them."

Katherine blinked at him for a moment, her uncertainty plain. "Are you sure?"

Athos nodded, glancing back toward the squabble of voices. "If we are to avoid some kind of civil war within this room, it might be wise."

In a way she knew that it was intended to be a joke, but the laughter didn't quite reach his eyes. And as she slowly turned her attentions back toward the discussion at hand she came to realize that his words were rather serious. It was plain to the eye and ear that they were divided in their desires, that most of the council was in favour of a war with England and her own family stood in opposition to this idea. The frown reappeared on Katherine's face as she felt her uncle's hand against her lower back, guiding her back into the cacophony of sound that had erupted from the center of the room.

"We cannot risk creating a war that isn't intended!" D'Artagnan argued.

"And how do you know that that is not _exactly_ what the English want?" demanded one of the more senior members of the council, openly glaring at D'Artagnan.

This time it was Porthos who interjected. "Risking the lives of our soldiers without certainty is a foolish move!"

"They have invaded our shores before!"

"We barely survived our encounter with the Dutch!"

"They want to rule our country! Change our laws! Ban our religion!"

"Stop this, all of you!"

But Katherine's command went unheeded. Back and forth the argument went like a ball in a tennis match, each side spitting out their words in harsh tones that would surely attract the attention of those in the ballroom if at any time the orchestra ceased to play. Her eyes darted toward the Dowager Queen, anxiously begging in silence for something that might be said or done to end their quarrel. Yet it seemed that Anne could offer nothing, for she had stepped back from the group and simply shook her head sadly in Katherine's direction. It would be simple enough for her to speak and therefore bring it to an end, since they all regarded her as still being their Queen in place of the wife that Philippe had not yet taken. But she knew that this fight was not hers to take on.

"ENOUGH!"

Silence filled the room almost instantly, every eye turning toward their enraged King.

"I will hear no more of this tonight," he commanded. "You will all be present in the Privy Council chambers by nine tomorrow to discuss this in further detail. Now go!"

With a wave of his hand and a brisk tone of voice, Philippe had dismissed all of those present in the room. The council members were quick to bow and offer their muttered apologies, but Philippe paid them no mind. He watched as each slowly removed himself from the chamber, his chest heaving slightly as he struggled to regain control of himself. Anne offered her own curtsey to her son and was followed from the chamber by D'Artagnan and Athos. For a moment Kate watched him, noting the way that his eyes never once looked in her direction, and she took that as a sign that she too was dismissed.

Lowering herself slowly into a deep curtsey, Katherine kept her eyes down as she turned to follow the others from the room, gasping softly when she felt a hand reach out and tighten around her wrist to prevent her from taking further steps. She glanced backward, her eyes trained on the hand that held her. She uttered not another word as the remainder of her family left the antechamber and hurried their separate ways, leaving only she and Philippe to stand in the room. Neither moved a muscle until the doors were safely closed. And when the familiar thud was heard, the tension seemed to drop from the young King's shoulders almost instantly.

"I'm sorry," he muttered to her, hanging his head slightly as the fingers began to loosen around her wrist and slid down to take her hand in a much gentler manner. "For earlier. I…I don't know what came over me-"

"Hush," came Katherine's soothing tone as she spun around quickly and moved to stand before him, her free hand touching his lips. "There is no need to apologize. No one saw anything."

The boy let out a frustrated growl as he felt her fingertips slip around to caress his cheek, turning his head instinctively into her touch. "I hate this," he whispered harshly. "I hate having to hide-"

"I know. But for the time being, that is what we need to do. I will not put your life at risk for me."

Philippe pulled her to him, holding her as close as he could manage as his forehead came to rest against her own. His eyes closed, the frown still on his face, but at least here he could breathe her in. Here, in the privacy that the chamber offered to them for the moment, he was able to just be himself and not the regal King that everyone else expected him to be. Ever since the events of Chateau Montblanc, when he had been prepared to sacrifice himself in order to save her from his twin brother, they had given up on trying to keep the other from the feelings that caused them both so much agony. He had gone with the intention of saving her, only to find that the two of them were to remain prisoners and used as bait for their fathers.

And even though it had been several weeks now since that time, Philippe still found himself to be suffering from nightmares. He would be standing in that room again, watching as his brother held the knife to the throat of the woman that he loved. He saw Katherine look at him, her eyes conveying just how sorry that she was for what she was about to do…and then he watched the two of them tumble from the open window, disappearing from sight before Philippe even had the chance to scream her name one last time.

There had been a happy ending of sorts to that episode, and he knew that. Katherine was still in his arms thanks to the incredible timing of her Uncle Porthos a number of stories down. Louis had been the unfortunate casualty that they hadn't been able to save. Yet there was still a fear within his heart that he had nearly lost her forever. And no matter how many times the young man tried to tell himself otherwise, he knew that he was still terrified of one day losing her.

"Philippe?"

The softness of her voice brought him back to the present. "I'm sorry," he whispered to her again, slowly opening his eyes to see the look of concern that had grown on her face. "I'm just…I'm afraid, Kate. I'm afraid of so many things right now, and I don't know what I would do if I were to somehow lose you."

Before he knew it, her lips were pressed against his and his eyes had instinctively closed once more. It was a rather bold move on her part, something that she had never done before. Any kisses that were exchanged between them had always been started by him, and so Philippe was slightly caught off guard to feel the urgency with which she pressed her body against his. He held her close though, his arms tightening around her body until he could feel almost every inch of her tightly held against him. His lips moved with the same gentleness as her own, though the feeling of need was certainly not lost between them.

And for a few moments he was content to remain that way, feeling her fingers lace themselves through his hand as she pulled his head down toward her own. When at last they pulled apart it was only their lips that lost contact, for Philippe was not yet willing to allow Katherine to move away from him and continued to keep his firm hold on her.

With flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips, Katherine looked upward at him with her bright blue eyes. "Don't," she said softly, caressing his cheek once more. "Don't think about it…please? Just…go back to the ball for a little while so that people will not whisper about your absence. Smile…dance…and when you are ready to retire, I beg of you, Philippe, try to rest."

She knew as well as he did that he likely would not be able to sleep that night, but the look that she gave him also betrayed the truth to his eyes. She did not plan on returning to the ball, despite the fact that the entire thing had been thrown in her honour. Instead Katherine asked him to return so that the people would whisper a little less about the way that they had both been whisked away by his musketeers. His mother was likely already there once more, as were several members of her family, if not all of them. And they too would notice if neither of them returned to the ball. Oh, the scandal that would create…

"You will wait for me?"

Philippe looked at her nervously, wondering if perhaps he was overstepping the boundaries that they had created for themselves. There was nothing intimately physical between them, not in the same regard as had been between Louis and his many mistresses. Philippe was still far too inexperienced in the ways of romance for that, and Katherine had made it clear that she would not blemish her honour in such a fashion. But she was aware of the fact that Philippe had come to suffer nightmares since their rescue and so had spent a few nights in his chamber as a result, wrapped in a quilt of her own and safely held in the young man's arms as they slept. It seemed to be one of the only ways he could be comforted on those nights when the dreams became too real for him to handle, and often times he found that he didn't experience them at all while Kate was near him.

It was a private arrangement that they had disclosed to absolutely no one. They doubted that either of their father's would approve for fear of the rumours it would cause.

Katherine nodded her head slowly. "Of course."

Breathing a soft sigh of relief, Philippe leaned in once again to press a gentle kiss to her lips. "I love you."

"And I you," smiled Katherine. "Now go."

A gentle nudge of her hands was all it took for Philippe to stumble back toward the door that would see him safely returned to the ballroom. For a moment he continued to look at her, observing the details of her face for as long as he could before the wall of the antechamber became too close and he was forced to turn himself around again. The doors were pulled open and in a flash he was gone, swallowed up once more by the regal persona that dictated his every move while in the public eye.

But as his form disappeared behind closed doors, the smile slipped away from Katherine's face and gave way to a look of sadness instead, her face instantly becoming buried in her hands. She wanted so much to tell him the truth of the matter, to remind him that the expectations of his court would deny him the one thing that he truly wanted in this world. Her mind demanded that she be logical with him, insisting that he look elsewhere for his pursuits. Her heart, however, was the problem in that. And it ached terribly at the thought of having to force him away from her for the good of the country that they both loved so dearly. His duty to his people needed to come first, she knew that better than anyone else…so why had she allowed herself to fall in love with him in the first place?

Breathing a heavy sigh, Kate turned herself away and headed slowly for the doors at the opposite end of the chamber. She didn't feel like dancing anymore. She barely felt like walking. All she wanted to do was remove the fancy gown from her body and curl up in a warm blanket so that she could drift off to sleep and leave all of her troubles behind her, even if only for a little while. The morning hours would come soon enough, and with them would be the opportunity to sit in on her first Privy Council meeting. She would need all of her wits about her in order to make it through that and prove that she belonged there, even if she didn't feel that way in her heart. The ring that Philippe had placed on her finger earlier suddenly felt cold and heavy as she came to remember the appointed time that the council was ordered to meet.

Soon, she thought. Soon she would have to prove that even as a woman, and even with the injuries now forever associated with her body, she could still spar with the best of them.


	5. Chapter IV

**This chapter happened a lot faster than I thought it might, so I hope it ends up being interesting to some of you! Please feel free to leave me a review when you finish reading! I'd love to know what you think thus far!  
**

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

It was growing dangerously close to nine o'clock, the time appointed by the King for his council to gather and the meeting to begin. Each had taken their place around the table that sat in the midst of the room for their use, papers and glasses of water sitting all over the top among the scattered quills and bottles of ink that would likely be put to use. Everyone sat in stony silence, each collecting their personal thoughts as eyes glanced around the room and took note of the empty chairs that sat near the musketeers. D'Artagnan had seated himself between Aramis and Athos, having left the chair on Aramis's other side vacant for Katherine to use. It was to be her first meeting of the Privy Council since Philippe's declaration the night before, and he didn't doubt for a moment that she would need the support of her father once the other council members settled in for the attack. Last night, while Kate had been over consoling Athos, they had made it rather plain that they did not welcome the input of a woman in their meetings.

Their words were still fresh in the mind of Aramis though, and it had taken much of his self-control not to voice his displeasure to them the night before. It was only the tension in his jaw and the hard look in his eyes that betrayed his animosity toward them now. But the older man wisely kept his thoughts to himself as he waited anxiously for the moment that his daughter would finally arrive. It would look poorly upon her if she were to arrive after the King when she was only newly appointed to such a high position. He knew that it would do nothing to lessen Philippe's trust in Katherine, they had been through far too much for that to happen. But it would not endear her to the rest of his council.

As the doors began to open, everyone leapt to their feet and looked toward the opening expecting that the King would be walking into their midst. Yet it was not the King who immediately appeared, but rather a company of two who hurried inside and toward the empty chairs.

Porthos was only a few steps behind her as they made their way inside, but it was Katherine's choice of clothing that immediately brought back the harsh stares of disapproval from the more senior members of the council. Her hair had once more been plaited in that single braid that lay down the center of her back, wisps of her dark brown locks having come loose so that they framed her face a little more than before. On her body she wore clothing that closely resembled the attire she had chosen when she had accompanied her father and uncles to the Bastille to rescue Philippe. No skirts or petticoats or anything else that might look feminine in nature, but a peasant styled blouse that hung off of both shoulders and tucked neatly into a pair of male trousers.

"Now really, mademoiselle, this is outrageous," spoke one man, a stout man with a rotund belly who glared heavily at the young woman from behind his spectacles. "You cannot present yourself before the King in such an unacceptable fashion!"

"It is unseemly for a woman to be dressed like that!" put in another.

Katherine turned sharply to face the both of them, her eyes narrowed dangerously as she felt her fingers tighten around the backrest of the chair she was to occupy beside her father. "Clearly you gentleman don't appreciate how difficult it is to train properly in skirts," she told them evenly. "Perhaps you have not heard, but I was ill for quite some time. My uncle was kind enough to allow me to train with him this morning."

She left out the fact that she had been unable to sleep the night before. Though Philippe had returned to his own chambers shortly after she had, he had quickly drifted off to sleep with his arms wrapped firmly around her body. But at some ungodly hour, perhaps three or four o'clock that morning, Katherine had finally given up on the notion of sleeping and slipped out of his embrace so that she could return to her own rooms undetected. It had been a relatively easy task to accomplish due to the changing of musketeers on duty at the time, and soon she had found herself creeping up the final staircase so that she could step into her room and close the door silently behind her. Even then, however, she hadn't been able to sleep. So when six o'clock had chimed its arrival she had left her rooms behind in the hopes of finding something to occupy her time. Porthos had simply been in the right place at the right time and more than willing to help his niece regain some of her strength by practicing with her.

"Regardless," sputtered another of the council. "You are a woman and should behave yourself as such!"

"As what?" Katherine rounded on him, eyes narrowed dangerously as the challenge resonated in her tone. "As yet another subservient person who buckles under the pressures of men? His Majesty did not appoint me to this Privy Council because he thought me weak and addle brained, or easily manipulated to the minds of others. He appointed me-"

"For reasons beyond our comprehension!"

Aramis bolted to his feet as he glared heavily across the table at the last man to have spoken, rage evident in his eyes and words. "How dare you!" he spat, looking as if he might jump across the top of the table in order to reach the offending man. "You have no right to speak to my daughter thus!"

D'Artagnan was on his feet in an instant with Athos quick to his side, each wearing a murderous look to rival the one that Aramis wore as they bore their teeth and flared their nostrils in anger. Even Porthos looked as if he were in the mood to join in the fight that looked to be happening. With the room now divided in half over their squabble it fell to Katherine to place herself tightly at her father's side, reaching across his body to place a hand firmly across his chest as she turned her bright blue eyes upward at him.

"No," she murmured to him, ignoring the presence of the others across the table for now. "We cannot fight them, Papa. The King needs his advisers to stand together if the presence from the English proves to be a genuine threat."

"But they-"

"Are foolish and misguided in their opinions," she interrupted smoothly. "And that is something they will one day have to answer for. But we need to be in control of our emotions now…for the sake of the King."

Aramis turned his greying head to look down at his daughter, his gaze instantly beginning to soften as he registered the wisdom in her words. Though he knew that she was just as angry as he was about the ill treatment she was receiving from members of the council, he had to agree with her. In the grand scheme of things this was but a squabble that would eventually be put to rest. There were larger, far more important matters to tend to now that a threat from England was looming on the horizon, and it was their job to advise the King as to the best way to handle the situation.

Philippe was still new to his position. He would need all of the guidance that they could give him before hell broke loose once more. France had only just started to regain some kind of stability and the people were slowly being won over to the side of their King. A threat of invasion from England would certainly strengthen their devotion to him to a degree, for no Frenchman alive wanted to see their country governed by their natural enemy. Yet one wrong move on his part could bring the very foundations of the country toppling down once more. And none of them wanted to return to the threat of civil war again.

Leaning toward her, Aramis pressed a quick kiss to Katherine's temple as the doors of the chamber were once more opened and the announcement of His Majesty's arrival was announced. Anyone who had been left seated was quick to rise to their feet and face their sovereign, bowing as low as was required of them. But it was not just Philippe who approached the table, as most had thought. Instead he lead Queen Anne into the room as well with her hand tightly held in his, her gracious smile bouncing from one side of the council to the other as she observed them. But as she took note of the manner in which Katherine had dressed herself, the Dowager Queen could not help but laugh softly.

"My dear," she began smoothly. "If I did not know better, I would say that you were outside this morning."

Ahead of everyone else, Katherine slowly lifted her hand and rose to her full height once more, smiling back at Anne. "Her Majesty is most observant," she acknowledged.

"Was it you I heard in the courtyard?"

"It was, my lady. Uncle Porthos was kind enough to work with me this morning."

"You are getting your strength back then. Very good."

It was abundantly clear to everyone in the room what that conversation meant. Anne had openly demonstrated her approval of the young woman who had been appointed to the council only the night before, her very presence standing as a testament to her support in the matter. Never before had the Dowager Queen been permitted to sit through these meetings, not even in the days when her husband had been alive. And the King had never brought her with him until then either. It didn't appear that Anne was going to be leaving them anytime soon either, for Philippe offered his mother a chair with a bow of his own head and a small gesture of his hand.

Obviously their way of life was now changing drastically around them, and without the authority to gainsay the King in this regard his older advisers could only bow their heads and plaster fake smiles across their lips. They did not like the fact that they would have to submit to the opinions of a woman in great matters of state. They had made that clear the night before. But with the King standing so near they knew that they could not risk angering him further. And certainly not with the Queen Mother there as well.

Katherine was careful to show her respect to her King without meeting his eye, lest Philippe foolishly try and catch it. His charming smile would certainly make her pause and smile in return, a reaction that would surely be noted by those who had no business in knowing of the relationship they shared. What good would it do either of them to raise suspicions like that? It would only serve to attach some kind of scandal to his crown, if he hadn't already managed to accomplish that with his actions at the ball.

Once Philippe and Anne were both situated, the rest of the council lowered themselves into their individual chairs and turned their attentions to their King.

"You are all aware of the situation," he began, getting straight to the point without formally addressing the council, a fact that did not go unnoticed by his older faction. "What remedy is there?"

"War."

Every eye in the room turned at once to the face of the rotund man who had initially decided to attack Katherine over her choice of clothing that morning. He looked his monarch boldly in the eye, ignoring all of the others who happened to be present. Even those who were nodding their heads in firm agreement and muttering under their breaths were ignored for the moment.

Maurice LaMarque was perhaps the most unpopular member of His Majesty's Privy Council in the eyes of the common people of France. He had gotten his position not through any heroic act on his part, but by charming the previous King with money and jewels and an abundance of flattery that had gone straight to the man's head. He was one of the oldest members of the council, a public figure of hatred who maintained that those who had been born beneath them should remain there. For a brief period of time he had been rather closely connected with Cardinal Richelieu before his death, and was all too happy to try and fill his shoes by whispering poison into his master's ear. For this alone Katherine knew that she needed to keep an eye on him and be careful to keep her distance whenever possible. LaMarque was going to be one of her biggest rivals now that she had been included in matters of state, and she didn't doubt that his resentment toward her would cause further issues down the line for her and her family.

Standing at approximately five feet and seven inches tall, LaMarque was a little shorter than Katherine was but certainly a great deal wider. It was almost impossible to know what sort of hair lay beneath his overly powdered wig, but she could only guess that it was sparse in nature if his diet was any indication. But his eyes were what unnerved her the most. Unlike ones she was familiar with, his were of a dark brown nature, so much so that they were almost black. But when she felt herself under his disapproving stare she could feel absolutely no warmth resonating with them. It was more like a dark tunnel with no light at the end. Just an emptiness that threatened to consume you and never again allow another positive or peaceful thought to enter your mind.

"The English cannot be permitted to encroach on our territories without consequence," LaMarque pressed forward, his tone dark as if he himself would lead the battle that he so desired to see. "We must show them and anyone else who desires to overtake us that we are not so easily moved by threats."

Porthos shook his head quickly. "But there has been no threat as of yet, Your Majesty. The ships were discovered to be English, yes, but blown off course by the storms that hit the coast a fortnight ago. They were only merchant ships on their way to Spain."

"And the spies?" LaMarque demanded hotly, turning his eyes to Porthos for the first time. "I suppose those were discovered to be nothing as well?"

"The spies were not caught, nor were they seen again," D'Artagnan confirmed coolly, looking LaMarque directly in the eye without the slightest hesitation or sign of submission. "Those we cannot discredit. But as no harm was done we have no just cause to declare war with the English."

A lanky man from across the table scoffed loudly at this. "If we delay in this then they will mostly certainly catch us off our guard and take the advantage!"

"A war at this time is a foolish endeavour we are sure to lose," D'Artagnan argued firmly.

"Your Majesty, if I may."

Silence filled the chamber almost immediately. All heads turned to look at the young woman who boldly directed her gaze toward her monarch while dressed in clothing that had been deemed inappropriate and unacceptable for the presence of the King. Her bright eyes remained locked on Philippe's face as he turned his attentions toward her, his own gaze softening slightly as the bickering around him came to a temporary halt. A hint of gratitude shone in his own blue orbs as he nodded his consent to hear her speak.

"The war with the Dutch was a costly affair in many respects. There was not enough food to send to the army at the front lines, barely enough men to even serve at the front and now your coffers are depleted as a result. Your Majesty should look to make peace with England, not war."

The King tilted his head slightly, intrigued by the idea being put before him. "And just how do you propose we go about that?"

"By inviting their ambassador to your court in order to negotiate a peace treaty."

The uproar that sounded in that moment was deafening, and caused Katherine to momentarily close her eyes against the harsh clamor that sounded in her ears. While it seemed that her own family was mostly in favour of the idea, the remainder of the council was certainly not. In their eyes it was treasonous to suggest allowing a foreigner anywhere near their King at this time, especially when their spies had been seen only a few days earlier. LaMarque was quick to show his aggressive stance against Katherine's idea, which caused both sides to rise angrily to their feet as the shouting match continued anew. The fact that Anne was sitting in the room was completely lost on the men, who were all but openly brawling in her presence.

Unfortunately, the tensions were running higher than they ever had before, and with a handful of musketeers in the room there was a dangerous chance that things might not remain verbal for long. Kate was already on her feet attempting to get her father and uncles to retake their seats, insisting that to argue this openly would benefit no one. But his words fell on deaf ears. Nobody was paying her the slightest attention anymore.

Then there was a crash on the table.

In an instant the arguments ceased as the room started to register the growing agitation that was growing inside of Philippe, who had risen to his feet and slammed a water glass down on its surface, causing the glass to shatter in his hand and create a mess. Anne and Katherine seemed to gasp in unison when both noted the hints of red that had begun to mix with the pieces of glass and the spilled water, alarmed that Philippe would so injure himself in his rage. His eyes were menacingly wide as he stared at the men who were supposed to be advising him in the great matters of state. They didn't need to be told twice that they had pushed their young King beyond his limits in this matter.

"Your hand-"

"You were saying, Katherine?"

The brunette breathed slowly for a moment, her mind barely registering the fact that Philippe had cut his own mother off in her concern so that he could beckon her to continue. The blood was still dripping from his hand in the places were the glass had broken the skin. Each passing second added another droplet to the puddle that was slowly beginning to form on the table.

Aramis nudged his daughter gently as he wadded up the handkerchief he kept in his pocket and offered it quietly across the table to Philippe to take with his injured hand. "Kate."

She gave herself a bit of a shake, coming back to the meeting. "Everyone knows that Charles II is not the man who truly rules England. That power is held by Oliver Cromwell, and he would never dare to leave so that another could take control in his absence. But the Duke of Buckingham might be invited to court as his ambassador. I understand that he is sympathetic to an alliance with us moreso than any other great power in Europe."

Philippe nodded slowly, continuing to stare his council down. "Then an olive branch shall be extended to him," he declared. "From you, as a hero to France."

"Your Majesty, I must protest!" LaMarque cried out. "Mademoiselle Katherine may well be a member of this council by your good grace, but she is hardly worthy of writing to a man such as the Duke of Buckingham! He will be insulted by the very notion-"

"You are rather bold, sir, to question the judgment of your King so openly that you would disrespect him not only before his council, but also before the Dowager Queen," remarked Kate, calmly turning her attentions back to LaMarque as she frowned heavily at him. "When you yourself have yet to offer nothing but the demand for further bloodshed in a battle that you do not intend to lead."

His gaze narrowed dangerously. "You presume-"

"I presume nothing sir," she quickly countered. "For these are only the facts that you have presented in this meeting. You call for war, which will lead this country further into debt, cost us numerous fathers and sons and achieve what? Absolutely nothing, for you have no way of knowing that war is what the English are seeking. You only _presume_ that this is their goal."

LaMarque continued to stare across the table at Katherine, his dark gaze settled so firmly on her slender form that he barely seemed to register the looming presence of her father who stood closely to her side. With both of her hands firmly pressed into the table and her weight shifted forward the young woman stared him down. It was just the two of them, battling it out silently to see which would buckle first. Neither was willing to relinquish their stance, yet it was clear that LaMarque did not at all appreciate the words that had slipped through her lips. She had accused him of cowardice before his King, of selfish desires that would ultimately lead to a savage outcome. She cared not that she was standing in the presence of royalty. And worse, they would likely stand in support of her because she was currently basking in the King's favour.

The harlot, he thought angrily to himself. She had the King wrapped around her little finger at this point and she well knew it. It was written across her face. Even if they were to openly deny any form of relationship before the council he was convinced that she was only the latest mistress that his King had taken into his bed. How she had wormed her way beyond her normal duties as his lover was beyond him. The only thing preventing LaMarque from challenging her on standing in that position was the fact that she had musketeers on her side, and certainly the affection of the King.

But she would fall, he thought pleasantly. Like all others before her, the King would soon tire of this Katherine woman and set her aside. There was nothing special about her that would keep her in his good graces for much longer, regardless of how skilled she might be in bed.

"The King has made his wishes known," Anne said lightly, her dark eyes glancing around at each person present from where she sat in her upholstered chair. "Katherine will write to the Duke of Buckingham on behalf of His Majesty, inviting him to attend a peace summit here at the earliest convenience. And with any luck, we shall have peace."

That was the end of the matter, and they knew it. The fact that Anne had spoken to the council was a sure sign that they were now dismissed from the privy chamber, and had the whole council bowing in her direction as they muttered their hurried apologies at her. Even LaMarque hastened to collect his papers as he bent as low as his pudgy waist would allow. He left with the rest of the council, but not before shooting one last threatening glare in Katherine's direction as he went. Aramis stirred at his daughter's side and quickly stepped as if to place himself between the two of them, but Katherine's arm stopped him. If this man thought he was going to intimidate her then he was going to be sorely disappointed, she had decided.

As the older faction of the council began to disappear the others slowly began to show their own respects for the King and his mother, moving to follow quietly from the room. Only D'Artagnan remained with Kate and Aramis, hesitating for a moment to share a concerned glance with Anne before she quietly shooed him away with a small gesture of her hand. Again he bowed. He could do nothing further for the moment.

"You should have that hand tended to, Your Majesty."

And with that he removed himself from the room, Aramis hot on his heels at Katherine's silent behest. Sensing that the two of them needed to be alone for a moment, Anne rose elegantly from her chair and waved her hand when Katherine made to curtsey before her. There were no other eyes upon them, and as of late she had taken to trying to convince the young woman to cease her courtly formalities. It hadn't worked as well as Anne had hoped, but it was a slow progress that she hoped to improve in time. The Dowager Queen paused long enough to give her son's shoulder to gentle squeeze and then she two was gone.

It was just Kate and Philippe now. But the King had turned his eyes away from her and stared intently at something before him, something that she hadn't been able to name even as she turned her head to follow his gaze. He was troubled, anyone could see that. His council hadn't exactly come to an agreement over how to handle the presence of English spies in his kingdom. If anything, they seemed to be entirely divided. And that could only serve to plague his mind further as he struggled to adopt the persona that had been handed to him upon the death of his twin brother.

"You lost your temper today," Katherine told him softly, leaning back against the edge of the table as she dropped her eyes to the floor. "That is unlike you."

"How can I be expected to keep my temper when my council argues like that?"

Katherine sighed softly and turned her head a little, eyeing the handkerchief that was held so tightly in his closed fist. Even now she could see hints of red from where the material had captured the blood from his wounds and allowed it to spread along its cotton surface. He clenched it so tightly that his fist was beginning to tremble, a movement that immediately brought Kate away from the edge of the table and found her kneeling before him as she took his quivering hand in her two smaller ones. Immediately it seemed that she had an impact upon him as their skin made contact.

All at once Philippe sighed heavily and slumped forward, bringing his other hand across his eyes as the tension slowly began to fall away from his body. His fingers grew slack and nearly dropped the soiled handkerchief in the process, leaving it up to her fingers to hold it against his palm. Then he leaned backward into his chair and let his head rest heavily against the cushioned back as his eyes turned upward to the ceiling.

"Forgive me," he murmured softly to her. "You were the only one to say anything useful and I am snapping at you…I don't mean to."

The brunette shook her head quickly and pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles. "There is nothing to apologize for," Katherine told him firmly. "You were angry. I understand-"

"But I should not be taking that anger out on you."

He looked at her with such intensity now that Katherine was momentarily taken aback, lips parted slightly as she gasped. This was twice now in as many days that the two found themselves to be alone together when they could so easily be seen by others, and yet she couldn't bring herself to pull away from him as she should. She knew how bad it would look for a young woman to be discovered kneeling before the King in such a fashion, even if there was not the slightest piece of clothing or hair out of place to disgrace her. But the court thrived on rumours, whether they were true or not. They lived on the piece of gossip that could be provided to them, and she was absolutely certain that after last night there were whispers of the relationship that the King shared with her.

And when she felt her cheeks flush under his eyes, she knew that her emotions had betrayed her yet again. Any passing soul who might happen upon them would know without a doubt that she was taken with the King of France. And he with her.

"Summon the physician to look at your hand."

Philippe frowned. "But you-"

"Yes, I know I could," she offered gently, letting the fingers of one hand graze his cheek. "I know, my love. But if you allow for the physician to tend to you, it will be one less thing that people can whisper about later."

"He won't do nearly as good a job as you would."

At that, the young woman had to smile. "Perhaps not. But he will do his duty. Of that I am absolutely sure."

When he reached out to cup the one side of her face with his hand, Katherine instinctively leaned into his warm palm and smiled gently at him. "You are far wiser than I am, you know that?"

"No," she told him smoothly, pressing a quick kiss into his palm. "Not wiser. But I care more for your safety and your reputation with the people that many others do. And I will do nothing to compromise their new love for their King."

Philippe breathed another sigh as he allowed his thumb to graze the soft flesh of her cheek, wishing once more that they were not forced to keep their love so carefully hidden. It nagged at him each and every single day that he had fallen in love with her and yet was unable to express his affections even the slightest bit. Still he was urged by his council and by many others of high rank to take a bride and create a political alliance with a foreign power to protect the interests of France from those who might see her destroyed. But he couldn't do it. Not when his heart was already given to another.

"Go to your father. Much of this talk will have upset him, I'm sure."

She bit gently down on her lip as she hesitated, but she knew that she couldn't argue with him now. Bowing her head, Katherine allowed her fingers to slip away from his injured hand and instead press against her own knees to help her get up off of the floor. Once on her feet she dropped into a small curtsey, her eyes locked on the floor. And then she moved toward the door, leaving Philippe alone with his thoughts in the vastness of the privy chamber. She paused only once more before as she stood in the doorway, turning back to see if perhaps he had moved. But he hadn't, not even to watch her leave. So Katherine dropped her head and slipped out the door, an expression of sadness now on her face. There was nothing else that she could do now.

Nothing but begin composing a letter to the Duke of Buckingham.


	6. Chapter V

**After the longest wait of life, I finally have a new chapter for you all! Please leave me a review when you're done reading to let me know what you think! I'll be introducing two new female characters within the next couple of chapters (because there need to be more females in this world...there are not enough of them) and I'm really excited to see what you guys think of them! Comments are loved! Thank you for your patience!  
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* * *

 **Chapter V**

"Do you think it will be alright?" Katherine asked nervously, biting down on her lower lip. "I have never written such a letter before."

Anne smiled softly as she lifted her eyes from her needlework, sensing the uncertainly in Katherine's tone. "I believe it sounds exactly like you, which is how it should be."

"But I-"

"My dear," Anne cut her off gently, leaning forward to place one hand on her arm. "Philippe asked for you to write the letter, not his council nor his ambassadors nor even me. By now the English will probably know who you are if their spies did their job well. It does not need to be perfect."

Kate sighed softly. The two of them had been privately closeted in Anne's rooms for several hours now, seated before the roaring fire in the hearth as the daytime hours gave way into the evening. Kate had long since lost track of the number of times she had written and rewritten this letter that was to be sent off to the Duke of Buckingham, but she had sought Anne's advice in making sure that the words were not put together in an amateur fashion. Though she was fortunate enough to know how to read and write thanks to the tutelage of her father, she had never before written anything of such significance. It wasn't as if she were simply writing her heartfelt letter to Philippe again, or even a note to her father to explain her absence. This was something far more important.

The Duke of Buckingham came from a noble English family, with an educated mind that eclipsed her own without even trying. He would likely be fluent in a vast number of languages, a skilled dancer, potentially even if a poet depending on his disposition. And yet here was Katherine, the woman who was seen as the adopted daughter of a priest. Precious few knew of the illegitimate royal blood that ran through her veins and she hoped to keep it that way for a very long time. She had no title, no lands nor even a desire to remain at court for too long a time. It was a place filled with finery that was above her upbringing and people who couldn't be trusted because they only operated for their own selfish means.

So what business did a girl like her have in writing to someone as powerful as the Duke of Buckingham? The council was right, she thought. He would be insulted that such a lowly person was permitted to write to him on behalf of the King of France. But how on Earth was Kate supposed to tell people this without insulting the King? Or anyone else for that matter?

She'd already angered most of the older faction of the Privy Council by existing…

"I just want to make sure I don't ruin his chances at peace," she admitted softly, dropping her eyes to the piece of paper in her hand. "He isn't safe yet. And a war with England is the last thing he needs right now when he's being pressed to consider other matters."

Such as his marriage, she thought a little bitterly. It was no secret that his advisors and the Privy Council wanted Philippe to choose a foreign bride and secure an alliance that would make England think twice about invading their shores. A Spanish bride would certainly be preferable given the vast armies that would come with her. But any Catholic lady of nobility would certainly do in the eyes of France. It was imperative that he do this quickly though so that he might provide an heir to the throne. They needed the security of knowing that there was a Dauphin in the cradle who would one day succeed his father and continue to oversee the prosperity of the country.

Despite what he might personally want, he was going to have to put the needs of his country above the desires of his heart. She knew that. She was slowly attempting to put herself in a position where she might one day be able to accept that and smile at his wedding as he exchanged vows with his bride. But Philippe was making that difficult when he was continually dropping small hints of what he wanted when she was around. And as much as Katherine loved him she knew that she couldn't allow herself to do the one thing that would make them both eternally happy. It just wasn't possible though. Not when she was a commoner of questionable blood lines, and certainly not when it was possible for someone to discover that she was the illegitimate daughter of Anne's deceased husband, the previous King Louis. To those who didn't know of Anne's infidelity with D'Artagnan, of which there were precious few, such a union would be seen as sinful and incestuous.

No, no matter how much Philippe might want it, he would have to be denied.

Anne gave her arm a gentle squeeze, bringing Kate's attentions back to the Dowager Queen. "You worry far too much," she murmured gently to the girl. "You are young! You should be worrying about things of greater importance to you, not to a country."

"You realize that this is impossible now that Philippe has placed me on the Privy Council?" Katherine asked her, trying to offer a small smile with the hint of teasing in her tone.

The two women laughed lightly, Anne nodding her head in agreement. Though he had caught them all off guard with his announcement at the ball, the Dowager Queen certainly couldn't deny the fact that the new responsibility would give the girl much more reason to worry about things. And more of a right to worry. It was no longer just her father and uncles that she would be concerned with, but with the overall care of the people of France as well. They had yet to learn how the common people would respond to her elevation within the court system, but Anne could only hope that it would be welcomed far more than any of the tyranny that Louis had previously inflicted upon them.

Both heads turned when they heard someone knocking gently for entrance to Anne's chambers, noting immediately that it wasn't the main doors from which the sound emitted. Katherine rose swiftly to her feet as the secret entrance began to open, her body prepared to alert the guards outside if the intruder proved to be an unwelcome sight. But as his dark head appeared and the fabric of his uniform became clear, the two women relaxed in unison. D'Artagnan moved quickly to close the door behind him and started across the room toward them, his body void of any urgency that might have set them on edge once more. The soft smile that he bestowed on both women confirmed that all was well, and Katherine found that the tension in her shoulders was slowly beginning to fade under her uncle's gentle gaze.

"It is unkind to frighten us like that," she told him softly, a playful look gleaming in her blue eyes.

"I apologize, _ma petite_ ," he told her with a small chuckle as his pet name for her rolled off of his tongue. "You know I didn't mean it."

The brunette nodded slowly. "I do."

D'Artagnan folded his arms behind his back and smiled at Katherine. "My dear, I wish to speak to the Queen of a more private matter. Perhaps you could check on your father?"

There was no mistaking the way he asked her that. Clearly she was being dismissed as gently as possible from the Queen's side so that the two of them could share a moment between them. Though Katherine was still a maid she was not innocent of knowing the things that happened between a man and a woman in private, and so she found herself standing almost awkwardly between the two bodies now. But she had no power to deny them either, and so she nodded to D'Artagnan with a look of understanding before she turned to curtsey to Anne. Her curtsey only made it halfway down however before the older woman rose to her feet and reached out to grasp her arms, bringing the bright blue eyes back upward with slight confusion.

"There is no need for that when we are alone," she told the girl softly, giving her arms a little bit of a squeeze to emphasize her point. "Here, I am not a Queen, but your friend."

The confusion fell away from her face and a small smile instead took over as Katherine looked upward at the regal woman, nodding slightly to show her understanding. Satisfied with this, Anne released her from her grasp and left Kate free to wander over toward D'Artagnan. With her head bowed she attempted once more to drop herself into a small curtsey before him, but he too seemed to have caught on to the way that she planned to greet him. Instead the older man lifted a hand to catch her cheek and leaned forward, pressing his lips firmly against her forehead. Despite herself, Katherine found that her smile had widened a little at his actions.

"Just be careful," she murmured to him, slipping her arms around his neck for a quick hug. "There are eyes everywhere, uncle. And they are not all friendly."

She gave him no opportunity to respond before she headed for the main doors of the chamber, slipping through them with an ease that few people seemed to possess now. Her departure would serve to tell those who lingered outside of the Queen's Chambers that she was now alone inside. Katherine's voice carried through the heavy wooden doors as she instructed the waiting servants that Her Majesty wished to be left alone for the remainder of the evening and was not to be disturbed by anyone. At that, D'Artagnan couldn't help but press his lips together to keep from laughing. The child was certainly perceptive beyond her years, he knew that well enough. But he didn't doubt that if fortune had favoured her differently, she might have made an excellent ruler herself.

He turned his dark head back to face Anne, his arms once more folding behind his back as he straightened his spine. "I have doubled the guard around the palace again for the time being, at least until we are sure that there is no threat from the English spies."

"Is that necessary?" she asked with a raised brow at how he continued to address her so formally now that they were alone. "Surely Philippe is safe with you and the others watching over him."

"I will not take that chance," the captain told her firmly. "Not when the world still believes that it is Louis who sits on the throne of France."

D'Artagnan regretted his choice of words almost as soon as he had said them, watching as a pained look created a shadow over Anne's beautiful features for a moment before she turned her head away and stared into the fireplace instead. It was thoughtless of him to speak so lightly of their other son when he was only newly buried on that hillside, especially when he knew full well that Anne made a daily pilgrimage out there to visit with him. They had been unable to write his name upon the stone that had been left to mark the grave for fear of what might happen if someone else were to see it, but they both knew who lay beneath it. They were reminded daily of him when they saw Philippe. And though he knew that they both tried their hardest to put their sorrow behind them, it was a task that was still going to take time.

The captain quickly moved to make his way across the room, his arms opening so that he could take Anne into them and hold her tightly against his chest. "Forgive me, my love," he begged her softly, burying his face in the dark curls of her hair.

But Anne quickly shook her head, pressing her face against his chest as her fingers gripped at the material of his tunic, eyes tightly closed. "Please, not you too," she whispered. "Katherine has already apologized for it. She feels that she is responsible…that his loss is solely her fault." She sighed heavily, continuing to pull D'Artagnan as close as her smaller body would allow. "She does not understand that we lost him long ago."

He remembered all too well how they had lost him early on in his reign, perhaps as early as the moment when the dying King had revealed the existence of his twin brother to him. Louis had always been an ambitious person, but his paranoia of those around him had him trusting few people and always skeptical of their intentions. But he hadn't been a fool, and he had seen the benefit of having Katherine in his keep after they had tried to depose him. It killed D'Artagnan inside to know that his son had treated his niece with such cruelty at a time when she had been extremely vulnerable. Her illness had prevented her from fighting back the way she had that night at the Bastille when the entire ordeal had truly begun for them. But Anne was right. They had lost Louis a long time before his death.

"We will need to speak to Philippe about the way he treats her as well," Anne noted softly, lifting her dark head to look upward at her lover. "I know that he cares for her, D'Artagnan but he cannot be careless. Appointing her to the council like that was foolish with men like LaMarque attempting to control him like that. He cannot be blinded by his love for her."

"I'm afraid he may already be," grumbled the captain of the musketeers.

Anne shook her head firmly. "He must be careful. They will not end up as we did, meeting in secret. But I fear that they may end up with broken hearts and be forced to love one another from afar. And if he continues the way that he is then he risks her reputation. People are already talking…"

He had heard the rumours, many of which were entirely unflattering…all of which were untrue. He had been there in the room when Porthos had pulled Katherine from her death and watched as she flew across the room to stand in Philippe's embrace. He had witnessed the way that his son clung to her with terror in his eyes at the prospect of losing her. The way he had kissed her would have been enough to banish any doubt he might have had in his mind.

He knew that they were not lovers, as the rumours mostly claimed they were. Philippe was still too nervous around her to do much more than attempt to hold onto her when they were alone and away from the prying eyes of the court. And Katherine was far too honourable a woman to allow herself to succumb to her desires like that. As much as she might perhaps have wanted to at times, he could trust her judgement. If not for herself, than for the honour of her father. There was nothing on this earth that could prompt Katherine to bring shame to Aramis after all he had done to raise her from the moment he had discovered her on the front step of the monastery.

"They are going to talk, Anne. That is something that they will never cease to do." D'Artagnan lifted his head a little then, his blue eyes looking down at her for a moment with a soft frown. "I will discuss this with Philippe, but right now I am not concerned with the children. I am concerned about you…and the toll that this is taking on you."

The Dowager Queen began to pull away from his arms, her eyes focused on the floor so that she didn't have to face him directly. "It is not always easy," she admitted gently. "It is not my place to stand at his side and argue anymore. If I were to do that now then people would question him more than they already do. But seeing the children together helps to make it a little easier. I try to maintain some hope for them…as little as that hope might be."

D'Artagnan watched with concern in his eyes as Anne moved back to sit in the chair that she had previously occupied when Kate was in her company, clasping her hands firmly in her lap before she turned to stare into the hearth. "Part of me wishes to retire from court life and move to the country. You could retire from leading the musketeers and we could go together with the few people that we have ever trusted with our secret."

The captain turned slowly to face her, lowering his body to the floor at an almost painful pace until he was able to kneel at her side. The motion had become much more difficult since recovering from his wound, but D'Artagnan was loathe to let anyone see that he was no longer a young man.

"Is that what you wish?" he asked her quietly. One of his hands slowly moved to lay on top of the two that rested in her lap. "Anne, if that is what you desire then you only need tell me and we could go as soon as tomorrow."

Her head turned sharply to look at him, almost surprised by the earnest tone that his voice had now taken. And for a moment it looked almost as if she were going to agree with him, ready to be whisked away like the young bride she had been when D'Artagnan had first caught her eye. And then the look began to fade away and a sadness crept into her features to replace the excited glimmer in her eye. Again she shook her head, dark locks swaying softly around her face.

"I cannot leave them." Her hands shifted, taking hold of his fingers. "As much as my heart might desire for us to go and be together…with the threat from England I could not bear to leave them now. They need us, my love. If we abandon them now then we leave them in the care of people who would just as easily let them fall as see them rise."

It was far too dangerous, she thought. Philippe was still new to his position as King, still too fresh to the idea of having to endure those meetings with the Privy Council as they argued over what course should be taken for the betterment of the country. And now that Katherine had been thrown into the mix so suddenly Anne couldn't help but feel that there was even more danger looming on the horizon for her. She was a woman in a world that was dominated by men. She had risen far above the ordinary responsibilities that one would associate with her sex and become a threat to those who thought they would otherwise dominate her. That put her in a precarious position…and if she continued to openly oppose men like LaMarque then that wasn't likely to change in the near future.

And D'Artagnan nodded quietly in agreement. As much as his own heart longed for a time when they could be together as more than Queen and musketeer, his heart knew that she was right. There was too much to lose if they were not careful, and already he had felt the terror in his heart when he had thought he would lose both Philippe and Katherine…

It was not a feeling that he was anxious to experience again.

"Very well," he acknowledged quietly. "But I beg of you…please do not sacrifice your own health and happiness for too much longer. I can see it wearing on you, and it kills my heart to knowing that you are trying to suffer in silence."

Anne offered him a gentle smile, the very one that she often used to put Katherine at ease. "My silence has endured since the day I was married. I can endure a little longer."

The answer was not entirely satisfying to D'Artagnan, but he knew better than to try and comment further. Anne would not rise to his words, but rather continue to attempt to put his mind at ease. It was in her nature. Even when sitting at the side of the old King she had always done her best to make other people comfortable regardless of their station. It was one of the things that he loved about her.

And so the captain swallowed his fears and slowly pushed himself to his feet once more, moving to take the seat that Katherine had previously occupied. But his hand remained firmly held in Anne's grasp. For the next several hours they didn't speak, but rather basked in the warm comfort of the fireplace.

And each other.


	7. Chapter VI

**And here I bring you a brand new character to love! (I hope XD) I apologize for the wait on this one guys! Hopefully it will have been worth it! Leave me a review when you're finished reading!  
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* * *

 **Chapter Six**

When word came to the palace that the Duke of Buckingham had accepted the invitation to negotiate peace, everyone flew into a frenzy.

The council quickly started to assign various tasks that needed to be looked at, and the serving staff bore the brunt of their demands. Katherine felt incredibly sorry for the endless number of cooks and seamstresses and chamber maids and shoemakers who were suddenly sought out and laden down with work. Menus needed to be settled, which meant that various animals would need to be slaughtered for the many feasts and banquets that would be thrown in honour of the Duke and his traveling party. There would be masques and dancing and entertainments that would also be needed in order to keep him entertained between rounds of negotiations. And that wasn't even taking into account the yards and yards of fabric that would then be needed for the sheets and tapestries and hangings that would be used by the Duke and his party…or the new clothes that everyone was bound to want in order to show off their wealth.

For her part, Katherine was well aware that the initial greeting of this English party was just as important as everything that happened during their visit. And as expected, the King assigned her to the task of preparing for the first day that the Duke would arrive. This meant not only the initial set up of how he would be greeted when he landed in Calais, but also how he would be accompanied to the palace and who would be in the courtyard to greet him and his traveling party, as well as the banquet that would follow. Philippe had made it very clear to the disgruntled council that they were to give her every bit of help that they could if she should need it.

But it wasn't the council whom she sought after they had been dismissed. Instead it was Queen Anne, the only other woman at court who had been through these same procedures before when it came to welcoming foreign powers to the French court.

"I have no idea of where I should even begin," Katherine confessed to her, cheeks flushed with shame at being given such a mighty responsibility without the faintest notion of how to handle it.

Yet Anne had been nothing but understanding, quickly calming her nerves as she prepared to help Kate with something she deemed to be "just as important as everything else." She didn't initially tell the girl what it was that they would be doing when she summoned her to her personal quarters a few days later. Yet as soon as Katherine took note of the people in the room she had a sinking feeling that she knew exactly what was going to happen. There was only one man in the room among the handful of women who had been enlisted to help, and though she had met him only briefly to be fitted for the last ceremony, she knew the tailor well.

Anne was going to create a royal wardrobe for her.

"You cannot greet the Duke of Buckingham without a proper wardrobe," she told a stunned Kate with a smile, holding out her hand to motion that the girl should enter the room as the servants closed the door behind her.

There were too many eyes in the room for her to protest, knowing that while her conversations with Anne in private were far less formal she needed to continue to act the part while others were present. And unfortunately, she was also painfully aware that she couldn't argue her way out of this one. Wearing her simple cotton dresses in the presence of the Duke would be laughable, but the boyish attire that she wore when sparring with her uncle was absolutely out of the question. She needed to appear like the lady that she really wasn't. She needed to be able to play a part in this masquerade without embarrassing the King or making a mockery of the country.

She needed to be perfect.

"Do we know when His Grace is expected to arrive?" Katherine asked lightly, lifting her skirt so that she could step up onto the little platform that had been placed in the center of the room for her.

Anne nodded her head. "He will arrive in a little more than a fortnight if the seas are calm," she said in her accented tone of voice, stepping forward to begin inspecting Katherine with her eyes. And though they were kind eyes, Katherine could already see the wheels of her mind beginning to turn. "Nothing light in colour," she decided, looking toward the tailor who was also looking the young woman over. "Salmons, pinks, anything like that."

The tailor shook his head a little. "Jewel tones," he said, offering a little bow to the Queen Mother. "Colours that will compliment those lovely eyes of hers."

"Damask to begin," Anne also decided as she folded her hands before her. "Hints of silver and gold, if they can be worked in. But she is young. I do not want her overdressed."

Again, the tailor offered her a bow.

He was a man of average height, Katherine was quick to note, with a lanky build that gave him a rather scrawny appearance. Though he clearly tried to stand upright in the presence of royalty she could see the slump in his shoulders when he bowed toward Anne, his posture quickly being sacrificed in favour of showing her the proper respect she deserved. Behind his half-moon spectacles were beady little eyes of a dark brown that seemed to squint even through the lenses that were designed to help him see better. His face seemed to bear an almost constant expression of distaste at something, his nose slightly wrinkled like a bad smell lingered at every turn. And he stood with one hand behind his back almost constantly, his long fingers bent at strange angles that gave them a more menacing look than one would expect from a tailor.

In truth, he was someone who made Katherine feel rather uncomfortable when she stood beneath his gaze, his dark eyes raking her form as he tried to decide how he should dress her body. It was unnerving to have anyone stare at her for too long when she wasn't used to being the center of attention. And that was exactly what she had been since arriving at court, though it had only gotten worse after she had been safely returned from Chateau Montblanc. Kate shuddered a little. That place now held so many bad memories that she would have liked never to think of the damned place again.

Anne broke her from her thoughts and refocused her attentions. "I have asked my niece to come to court for the visit."

"Your niece?"

"Lady Louise of Savoy," said the Queen Mother with a soft smile. "Her mother was my late husband's sister. She is a few years older than you are, but she has experience at court and will be able to help guide you if I cannot."

A nod came from the young woman on the platform, her eyes then turning toward a couple of women who approached her with yards of coloured fabric in their arms. It seemed that no time was to be wasted, Kate observed. Every other woman in that room was anxious to see which bolts of cloth would be selected for her gowns, each wanting to suggest a colour or fabric that would complement her eyes or her skin tone or something of the like. Anne was quick to dismiss the colours that she felt strongly against. Without even so much as a word from Katherine there was a growing pile on the edge of the bed that had been cast off. Orangey tones, the dusty rose that Anne had shaken her head at almost immediately, an amber colour…

After a moment, she decided it was safe to try and speak again. "She is going to think me simple," Kate said nervously, biting on her lower lip to further demonstrate her hesitance. "I have no skill for diplomacy or entertaining important guests such as the Duke. Is Lady Louise prepared to work with me on that level?"

Anne seemed to consider her question for a moment, brushing a hand aside at the yellow fabric that was held before her. "She will have to adapt, the same as you," came the final decision.

There was no room for conversation beyond that point, and Kate knew it. Though she might have been able to speak to Anne in greater detail if they were alone, there were far too many eyes and ears upon them now to risk such an intimate discussion. Perhaps later there would be time for them to speak again. But for the time being she would need to be content with what she was given, nodding to her superior and dipping a slight curtsey that wouldn't impede the work that was still being done around her.

The choices of silver brocade, dark blue silk and burgundy satin had already been placed in a chair, and were quickly joined with other fabrics of green and blue, as Anne made it clear that the colours would complement her eyes beautifully. Purple was out of the question due to her lack of royal rank, her bastard status as the only living child of the old King aside. That was something that the world would never know. They could _never_ know the truth, for it would shake the very foundations of the country to its core and possibly set off a civil war. D'Artagnan and Anne would lose their lives if the truth were ever to be set free.

And that was something Katherine could never allow.

"You stupid girl! How could you allow this to happen?"

Her dark head snapped around as she heard the words hissed off to the side of the room, her gaze looking to find where it had come from. Soon the tailor was locked in her vision, his form even more hunched over than normal as he loomed dangerously above a much smaller figure…that of a young girl.

"I-I'm sorry!" she stammered quickly.

But the tailor would have none of it. "You nearly ruined them with your carelessness! You stupid, ignorant-"

Words stopped there. The tailor raised his hand and quickly brought it back down again, right across the face of the young girl who crumpled to the ground from the force of his blow and cried out in pain. Her hands instantly flew to the cheek that he had struck as she tried to shield herself, her body tense as if she expected another blow. And it would have come, had someone not stormed across the room in a fury and grabbed the old man by the wrist before shoving him roughly to the side and coming to stand between him and his victim.

"How dare you!"

The tailor looked at Katherine, absolutely stunned by the raging fires he could now see burning in the depths of her blue eyes. For a moment he seemed to shrink away from her, as if he were afraid of the seething anger that was now directed at him. But then he stood up again, opening his mouth to speak.

"How dare you treat her this way in my presence," Katherine hissed before he could utter a sound. "I hope you have no children of your own, Monsieur, for if this is how you treat them then you have no right to be a father."

He tried to regain his composure, though it was clear that he was embarrassed by the sudden actions taken against him, and the way that Katherine seemed willing to spring to the defense of someone she neither knew, nor had any business looking at. The girl was so far beneath them, not worth a second glance. So why, even if she lacked a title and clearly all of the manners one would associate with a person at court, was she springing to this girl's rescue like this? Why was she interfering with his right to handle the child who worked for him?

"Mademoiselle, this girl is under _my_ employ, and she knows the penalties for dropping my fabrics."

"Penalties," Katherine scoffed at him with a roll of her eyes. "How is anyone supposed to carry so many heavy bolts of cloth like that? You have them stacked so high that the poor creature cannot see where she is going, and you seem to insist that she be able to hold them at your leisure."

"She knows-"

"She knows only what she is told, because you treat her with such distain that you clearly do not view her to be a human being. You are a disgrace to your station sir, if this is how you treat those you deem to be inferior to you for reasons that they cannot help." Katherine paused here, watching as the tailor struggled to find the words that he wanted in order to rebuke her claims. But she gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Enough," she declared darkly. "You will be paid for the fabrics that will be purchased and then you are to leave. But the girl will stay with me."

The tailor blinked at her, clearly shocked by this newest declaration. "You cannot-"

"I can, and I am," Katherine confirmed.

He knew it was foolish to argue, especially with the Dowager Queen coming to stand so close to them as she inspected the situation. To make a scene in front of her would not help his prospects, and would likely result in the loss of her business from that point forward. If this girl cost him that…the tailor couldn't even begin to imagine the revenge he would seek. His entire business could be ruined by the loss of the royal family as a patron.

"I will speak to the King about this," he vowed, his rage clearly written across his face.

"If that is your wish," the girl told him, standing up to her full height though she knew that even with her above average stance she would only come to the man's shoulder. "But your protests will fall on deaf ears. His Majesty would never permit the girl to be returned to you if he knew how you mistreat her. And I suspect that this is only a small part of the abuse that she has suffered at your hands."

There was a danger that now lurked in his eyes, a boiling rage that might have made some other people flinch. And had Katherine not already faced death twice in her short life, she might very well have been one of those people. But she stood her ground, continuing to watch as the tailor's face took on a reddish hue, his nostrils flaring with each heavy breath that passed through his body. If she didn't know any better, Kate might have thought that the tailor had a mind to strike her as well. But he didn't.

Perhaps it was because he still remembered where he was. Maybe it was because he didn't think the girl to be worth the fuss. At any rate he stormed passed Kate and the quivering form that still lay on the floor behind her, forgetting to pay his respects to Anne before he left. Stunned by what had happened and unsure of what to do, the other ladies in the room turned to look toward their mistress, watching as she waved her hand toward them. The bolts of material were quickly separated, the ones to be purchased from those to be discarded, and they were taken from the room in the arms of her chamber maids.

One by one they strolled on by without looking at either Katherine or the girl that she protected. They knew that it was none of their business. They had no right to intervene despite their personal feelings, whatever they may be.

When the last of the ladies left and Katherine was alone with Anne, she finally turned her gaze to look at the Queen Mother. The expression worn by the older woman was still as regal as ever, without any sign of irritation or anger or any other emotion Kate might have thought to see after the altercation. She was unreadable, a skill she had no doubt perfected after spending so many years in the public eye, her every move scrutinized when she had first come from Austria to marry the French King.

Katherine squared her shoulders, ready for the scolding she was sure was coming her way. "Are you displeased, Your Majesty?"

But the older woman simply smiled, giving her head a bit of a shake. "I would not have become involved as you did," she confessed quietly. "It is not my place, as a Queen and as a woman."

"So you would have had me do nothing?"

Again, Anne shook her head. "You have an inordinate amount of courage for a young woman, Katherine. You see an injustice and feel compelled to do something about it. I can only assume that this comes from being raised by four musketeers."

It was her blessing. It was so clouded over that it would totally escape the notice of most other people, but Katherine had come to an understanding with Anne. She was growing accustomed to the way in which the older woman smiled on her, picking out the little hints of praise from the words that ordinarily might not have offered it. Maybe it was something to do with them both being women. Kate wasn't entirely sure, since Anne was the first woman to have really come into her life in all of her twenty years. Her life at the monastery had only offered male companionship, both in the form of the other priests and in the father and uncles who sheltered and protected her from harm. Even as a child, her only friend had been Raoul, the son of Athos. At that point in her life though, it hadn't mattered quite as much.

She was a young woman now though, well into the time that she should have been married and raising a family of her own. It was through her own pleading that this hadn't yet happened, as she had begged her father not to force her into something that would make her unhappy. And Aramis had agreed. Up until this point she had assumed that she would simply continue to live within the walls of the monastery, tending to the injured and sick who came through their doors seeking aid. It was a quiet life that lacked the adventure she had always dreamed of, but it was the only life that she knew.

Slowly exhaling, she finally turned to look at the trembling form that still lay on the floor, her head down as she whimpered softly. Her hand was still pressed to her cheek, and Kate didn't doubt that there were tears in her eyes from the blow that she had been dealt.

She knelt slowly so as not to frighten the poor child further, reaching out with her hands to help her sit up a little better. "Let me see it."

Initially she flinched when she felt the contact of another against her skin, pulling away as if she might try to flee. But the soft way in which she was touched, combined with the tender tone of voice that Kate used, was enough to have the girl slowly turn her head up to look at her rescuer for the first time. Tears stained her skin, her cheek flushed red from where the tailor had hit her.

The girl couldn't possibly have been more than nine or ten by the look of her, Katherine thought to herself as the anger began to bubble inside of her once more. She was small, with skin darker than anything Kate had seen before. It was almost like chocolate, a rich brown shade that instantly set her apart from the other two people in the room. Her eyes were just as dark, wide set and expressive enough that her fear was easily read through them. And though she wore a cap on her head, there were little wisps of black hair that protruded from the edges around her ears.

As Kate gently pried her hand away from her cheek and let her eyes inspect it, she could feel the younger girl looking at her with an almost unreadable expression. Fear? Anger? Hatred? She turned her blue orbs away from her cheek to establish eye contact with the girl and smiled softly, hoping to put her a little at ease.

"He didn't break the skin," she told the girl encouragingly. "The swelling should go down in a day or two. But it will be tender for a little while." When the girl didn't immediately respond, Kate drew her smile a little wider. "What's your name?"

"M-Mya…"

Katherine nodded. "Mya," she repeated, letting the name roll off of her tongue. "Do you want to go back to working for the tailor?"

In an instant the fear was back in her eyes tenfold as the girl shook her head firmly, her body growing tense at the very idea that she could be sent back. And that was all the confirmation that Kate needed in order to make up her mind. She reached out to gently take Mya by the hand, bringing her back to her feet and off of the carpeted floor below.

"How would you like to stay here?" Kate asked. "With me. In the palace."

The little girl gasped softly, fear being replaced by awe. "H-here?" she asked quickly. "I….I-I…." She stopped, obviously struggling for the words that she wanted. "W-what would I do?"

"You could be Katherine's personal maid," Anne told her gently, stepping forward a little so that she could properly enter their conversation. "You would bring her breakfast in the mornings and help her dress. Brush her hair and bathe. And at night you would help her prepare for bed."

"Will I stay in the stables?" Mya inquired, a glimmer of hope beginning to show in her face.

But Kate shook her head. "No, Mya. You would stay with me, inside where you would be warm and safe." And protected, she added mentally to herself. Inside she would be spared any potential dangers that come from being in the same space with other males, some of whom would not have pure intentions when seeking out a young girl's company. And from the look of her, Katherine was ready to bet that Mya had not had the same upbringing in self defense that she had.

Perhaps she would need to remedy that in time.

The younger girl seemed to mull over the offer, unsure if it was okay for her to accept something of this magnitude. She was clearly out of her element, as Katherine often felt when dealing with the daily trials of court life. But she was quick to remind herself that she wouldn't be staying for long. This wasn't her home. The monastery was home…no matter how much she wanted to remain with Philippe.

After a long moment it seemed that her decision had been made. "I don't want to go back to the tailor," she confessed meekly.

Anne clapped her hands lightly together. "Then it is decided. Mya will remain with you," came her announcement as she turned to look at Katherine with dark eyes. "And this solves the problem of finding you a ladies maid for when the Duke arrives. It would be most improper for you not to have some kind of escort. And I believe Mya will do the job splendidly."

Blue eyes turned back to the smaller girl. "We have a lot to learn over the next two weeks," Kate told her softly. "Are you ready?"

Mya nodded quite quickly. "Yes ma'am!"

Katherine laughed. "Not ma'am, sweet child. You must call me Kate. Despite how others will disagree, I am not a very important person. I have only one job here at court, and that is to make sure that things run smoothly while the Duke of Buckingham is our guest. Do you think that you will be able to help me do that?"

Again, the girl nodded quickly. And before anyone could say another word she had rushed forward to wrap her arms around Katherine's hips, burying her face against the fabric of her skirt. It caught the young woman a little off guard to have such affection shown to her like that, but she laughed in delight once the stunned look slipped away from her face. Her life had been so void of female company that she didn't really know how to react to such a sudden display of affection, but she knew that she would get used to it. If this was to be her reward for sheltering an innocent child from harm, then Katherine would accept it willingly.


	8. Chapter VII

**Sorry for the insane delay everyone! Once again, I discovered some plot holes that I needed to work through so that this story made sense. Thank you to everyone who has hung in there and waited for the next installment of this story! Leave me a review when you're finished reading to let me know what you think!**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

Within a fortnight, they had assembled themselves in the courtyard as they awaited the arrival of their guest from Savoy.

The party that stood out in the bright sunshine was quite small and much more intimate than the group that would gather for when the Duke of Buckingham arrived, but that was something that Anne had insisted upon. The flashy show of the French court would be reserved for when the English party presented themselves on foreign soil. But the arrival of her niece was something that could be done without drawing the same attention. This smaller arrangement was a show of familial respect, Anne had said, and it would make things much easier if they didn't go through the grand protocols and such when Louise arrived.

Dressed in a pale green that complemented her eyes, Katherine stood beside her father and uncles, all of whom wore their musketeer uniforms as they stood in a perfect line. Mya was just behind her, now attired in a simple gown of blue and white that she had been in awe of as soon as Kate had produced it and begun the process of having it altered to fit her smaller stature. Evidently the girl was not used to wearing such soft cotton fabrics, something that her new mistress looked to remedy.

"What do we know about Louise of Savoy?" she asked her father softly.

Artemis glanced at his daughter out of the corner of his eye, then glanced at the King to ensure that they were not being listened to. But the young man was already conversing quietly with his mother, and so the opportunity to speak was present. "There is little of great importance," he confessed. "She is the only child of the old King's sister, the Duchess of Savoy. And as such, she was raised to observe all of the courtly protocols that Louis was, save for the obvious one."

 _Yes, of course,_ Katherine thought. _Louise would not think herself to be a King…_

"So she won't be all that pleased to see me among the King's advisors," Kate ventured.

At this, her father showed hesitation before he shook his head. "No, I do not believe that she will be pleased to note you presence. If she has heard anything about the reputation that Louis has had with women in the past, she will probably question your place the way the rest of the council does."

 _Brilliant._ She hadn't even had the chance to meet the woman yet and already she could tell that there was going to be nothing in common between them, save for their sex. Louise would know herself to be the daughter of royalty, a Princess in her own right. Kate knew herself to be a bastard child who hadn't been wanted by her royal father.

And were it not for the constant love she had been given by her Uncles and dear Papa over the twenty years of her life, she might perhaps have been far more bitter about this knowledge. But she had grown up with a family who had loved her. It was a family unlike any she had ever seen or heard of before, but it was _her_ family. And she loved them all dearly. No man was better than another. She called only one "Papa," but they had learned long ago that the titles did nothing to distinguish the affection that Katherine held for each and every single one of them.

In an attempt to distract herself slightly from the annoyance that was already beginning to bubble within her, Katherine turned her eyes back to the young woman who loomed like a shadow and offered her a gentle smile. No doubt poor Mya was uncomfortable in the heat, but at least she had the benefit of a simple cotton dress against her skin and not the seemingly endless layers that Kate wore herself. As a lady's maid she wouldn't be given much thought by anyone of means at court. And that was perhaps for the best, for the girl was still terrified that she would be returned to the tailor at any moment. Thus she was wary of the people around her.

Save for Kate, at least. She showed no signs of fear when in the presence of her new mistress.

"Kate."

Her dark head turned back to look at her father, but her eyes quickly discerned the reason that he had muttered her name so quickly. The carriage was now in sight and had entered the grounds of the palace, beginning to wind its way up the circular drive and toward the place where the Royal party awaited its arrival.

"Here we go," she muttered in return.

All at once her posture straightened and her gaze returned to the front, hands tucked neatly behind the fabric of her skirts in preparation for the curtsey she would need to execute. She was ready to meet with Louise of Savoy. Or at least she thought that she was. The instant that the carriage came to a stop and a footman moved around to open the door, however…

It was a beautiful blonde woman dressed in burgundy who got out of the carriage, her face carefully shielded from the sun by the angle of the hat that she wore on her head with its many feathers and decorations. Behind her trailed two other women in lesser clothes, presumably her own ladies in waiting, all of whom were helped from the carriage one by one before they advanced on the waiting party and paid their respects to the King and his mother.

"Cousin," Philippe greeted her with a warm smile, quickly moving forward to raise her from her curtsey and kiss her cheek with great affection. "We are so very grateful that you have been able to join us for this occasion. I trust your journey from Savoy was pleasant?"

Louise seemed to smile easily in return. "Bumpy roads aplenty, Your Majesty, but nothing we would not endure for the sake of accepting such an invitation from you."

Nodding in delight, Philippe then laid a gentle hand against her back to turn her slightly and gestured toward Katherine, who stood with her father and uncles. "I wish to present to you Mademoiselle Katherine, as well as four of my most trusted musketeers. Aramis, Porthos, Athos and D'Artagnan, their captain."

All five of them fell into their shows of respect with lowered eyes. "It is a great honour to meet you, my lady," Katherine spoke, rising to her feet after a moment. "His Majesty has spoken of your arrival with great excitement over the last few days."

"No doubt."

Despite the temperature outside in the sunlight, Katherine suddenly felt like she was a few degrees cooler thanks to the look that she had suddenly earned from Louise. The other woman lifted her chin so that she was looking down on Kate, quite a feat considering that she was a few inches shorter than the brunette was. But the look in her eyes grew cold and unpleasant, a clear display of what she likely thought of the young woman who now sat on the King's Privy Council. The ultimate snub, however, came in the fact that she quickly turned herself away and engaged Philippe in conversation without any proper greeting to Kate or the others.

"I have heard that the gardens at the palace at beyond compare," she said smoothly, gifting the King another easy smile. "Would it be too much of an inconvenience for Your Majesty to show them to be?"

Philippe looked at her for a moment. "Would you not perhaps like to rest from your journey?"

But Louise shook her head. "Perhaps afterward. But I have been sitting for so long that I think it would be good for me to take a bit of a walk. If I am not keeping you from anything, that is."

"Of course not! I would be delighted!"

Kate could have sworn that there was some sort of triumphant look on the face of their guest when Philippe offered her his arm and quickly began to lead their company back onto the grounds, leaving the rest of the party to follow in his wake. One by one the various servants and other members of the Council fell into their place behind the King, his mother and Louise, until it was time for Aramis and the others to take their place. But his intention of proceeding directly behind his daughter was hindered when Katherine didn't move at all.

"Kate, we need to go," he mumbled to her, eyes looking upward at the party that was slowly beginning to pull away.

"Go ahead," his daughter replied stiffly. "I won't be joining you."

D'Artagnan swiftly left his place at the other end of the line and looked down at his niece, frowning slightly. "Katherine, you cannot just-"

"I'm not _just_ doing anything," she interrupted him. "Louise has made it quite plain to everyone who was standing here that she will not tolerate me. You would have to be blind to ignore the snub. And Philippe is too busy showing his new guest the gardens to notice my absence. I'm not going to subject myself to her scrutiny for the sake of courtly protocol."

Porthos sighed gently, reaching out to place his large hand upon her shoulder. "These are protocols we must all follow," he told her softly. "Whether we like it or not."

But the young woman firmly shook her head and stepped backward out of his reach, her blue eyes looking at all four of the men now gathered around her. "You might have been raised to observe the subservient ways of the court, but I was not. I didn't ask to be kept here. And I will not be put on display for the sake of the King if his cousin is intent on showing me every slight that she can over the course of her visit."

She sighed softly. "I will do as His Majesty asks and be here to assist with the planning of the Duke's arrival. But once Buckingham is on his way back to England and peace has been obtained, I will be resigning from council and returning home."

Without another word Katherine spun off, motioning for Mya to follow her. There was a small chorus of people calling her name, but she answered none of them and simply continued onward. She had no desire to be out there anymore. Nor to be in the company of anyone else. She just wanted to escape, to find a place that was no filled with the court or people or anything else that reminded Kate of just how much she didn't belong where she was.

But when you lived in a palace, that was near impossible to do.

"Mistress?"

It was only the soft, female voice that forced Katherine to slow her steps, allowing her to regain some sense of where she was. Breathing deeply she turned herself around once more and knelt down against the warm stone of the pathway. "Mya, we've been over this," she said gently, reaching out to place her hand upon the girl's arm. "If you must call me anything remotely formal, just 'Katherine' is fine. I don't like the fancy titles, and I don't like the idea of you feeling that I own you."

The very notion troubled Katherine deeply. Mya was a person, not a piece of property or an animal or an urn or anything else that should exchange hands from one person to the next. The very idea of what the tailor might have done to her in the time that she was under his care still made Katherine's blood boil, but she tried to be conscious of not letting the young girl see her anger, lest she think the emotion was directed at her.

"You seem sad," the little girl told her.

"Well, I suppose I am a little," Katherine confessed.

Mya tiled her head, a look of confusion on her face. "Why?"

For a moment, all Kate did was look at her. She had to choose her next words with great care. Though she didn't doubt that she could trust Mya, it would be too easy for someone else to come in and coax those secrets from her lips. And the poor girl was young and inexperienced in the ways of courtly life, much as Katherine had been. She wouldn't understand that there were people here who didn't like the woman that she served. She wouldn't understand the dire need for secrecy when it came to the truth behind Katherine's parentage. All of those secrets that she was forced to keep would need to remain with her for a while longer…perhaps even forever.

"Mya," she began carefully. "You know how I was asked to be of help to His Majesty, yes?"

The younger girl quickly nodded her understanding. So Kate pressed onward.

"I have a lot of responsibility on my shoulders right now. Everyone is counting on me to help make peace with the Duke of Buckingham when he arrives. And if I fail, I could be responsible for a lot of people getting hurt. Do you understand?"

Again, the girl nodded. But her puzzled look remained. "Why did that lady seem so mean?"

Katherine laughed softly. "You must be careful when you ask things like that. The wrong person might hear you and Lady Louise would be greatly offended by your words." Though she had to admit, the thought of ruffling the noblewoman's feathers a little bit was not entirely disagreeable to her. "She _is_ a lady though. She is the King's cousin, and herself royal by blood. I am just a common girl. Compared to her, I am nothing."

"That's not true!" came the quick protest of the girl, who stomped her foot against the stone walkway as if to illustrate her point further. "You're a nice lady! You saved me from the tailor, and you're good and kind and pretty-"

"Mya, dear, you misunderstand me!" Kate reached out gently to grasp Mya's shoulders in her hands, waiting for the girl to calm herself before she dared to continue. "It's sweet that you think those things of me. It really is. But you must understand that this world…this life at court? It's going to be filled with people who think that they are better than everyone else just because they have money and titles and fancy clothes."

"Is everyone like that?"

Kate shook her head. "No, not everyone. The Queen Mother is perhaps one of the kindest people I've ever met in my life. And the King is known to have moments of gentleness as well."

Mya did not look so convinced. "What if he makes me go back to the tailor?"

One of the hands that had been on her shoulder moved gently to cup the side of her face. "You will never be made to go back to that man," Kate promised her quietly. "Not as long as I continue to draw breath. I will never allow it. And nor will His Majesty when he learns of how you have been treated."

"Promise?"

Katherine nodded firmly. "I promise."


End file.
